Masses to Masses 3
by iNf3ctioNZ
Summary: With Shepard gone and the crew disbanded, it should have just been two years waiting. Instead, Garrus and I face a new squad, a new station, new enemies, and a web of crime that's gonna take a hell of an untangling. Welcome to Omega. Welcome to Hell. Thanks to wielkiboss on DeviantArt for the cover.
1. Ian vs The Destruction

Chapter 1

Ash: Twilight of the Innocents

**A/N: We're back! I said July, guess what, I lied! Man, it has been a **_**while **_**since I've written anything in the SI zone…but now exams are basically over and it's time for Masses to Masses 3. And yes, they went well, thank you. Except Latin, that was a total trainwreck, but who cares? **

**If you clicked on this without having read Masses to Masses 1 and 2, then I salute your optimism. But in all seriousness, you should probably go and take a look at them before you make tracks with this. MtM1 is a wee bit of a slow starter, but things really start picking up about Chapter 5. **

**Well, I know towards the end of MtM2 I was churning out chapters faster than some people update their Facebook page, but…well, it might not be so easy for now. I still have a lot of commitments, even though I'm on holiday, I might actually have to find a job now school's broken up (seeking gainful employment, ha, what's up with that?) But I swear to you, unless I specifically state otherwise on my profile or something, at least a chapter a week. **

**Chapter lengths might also vary a bit now. I have a rough plan of events for the first time, rather than just winging it, so I already know there's gonna be fluctuations. But it's all good! **

**So, without further ado, let's get this show on the road! I know it's been a while since MtM2, so allow me to refresh your memory of the story so far. Right after obligatory disclaimers!**

**Mass Effect, its characters, its setting, and all the other stuff in the Mass Effect universe is not owned by me. It's owned by the geniuses at BioWare. I also do not own any ****real bands, companies, products etc. that I mention.**

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_'The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world...'_**  
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**G-Man, Half Life 2 **

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Hi, I'm Ian. Ian Shaw, or just Shaw, maybe Charles Carmichael if I'm undercover…it doesn't really matter, just whatever you prefer.

Well, except Charles Carmichael, since that's just an alias. And referring to someone by their full name is a little odd...anyway, here's some stuff you should probably know, or maybe just forgot.

A cool two and half years ago, I was dragged into this universe, the Mass Effect universe, by a dimension-jumping asari named Shiara T'Aeoni, for reasons only she seems to know and takes great pleasure in not telling me. But we'll get to that in due course. I ended up on the Citadel two years before the events of the first Mass Effect game, visions of seeming Prothean origin whirling around my head and foretelling the end of the galaxy, and I only had the clothes I was wearing, a few trinkets from 2010, and my endearing personality to my name.

After a bit of panic, coincidence, and just sheer luck (which is kind of a recurring theme for me around here), I managed to obtain a job as a detective in C-Sec. Not just any detective, as well. Garrus Vakarian's partner. That's where this whole damn thing _really _started.

Two years of fighting crime, taking names, filling in considerable amounts of paperwork and forming an iron bond of friendship with Garrus was ideal preparation for the challenges ahead with Saren, even if giving some guy who's never fired a gun before a weapon and asking him to be a hero was never going to go perfect. But hey, I'm still breathing.

The time at C-Sec was eventful, to say the least. Elcor biotics with murderous intentions and a narrowly foiled plot to poison the red sand network were highlights, along with a girlfriend by the name of Rebecca Simmons. But Dr. Saleon is where all that changed. Not only did he manage to escape just as he did in canon, but with Rebecca too, revenge for our efforts to stop him.

A few months after that, Garrus and I woke one morning to the news I had been waiting for. Eden Prime had been attacked, and Commander Shepard was on her way to the Citadel. After an investigation into Saren that may as well have had us bashing our heads off a wall for a few hours, we rushed to see Executor Pallin about a lead we discovered…and of course, first saw Commander Shepard. It was then that my vision flared up, and showed her dying. Which, obviously, wasn't ideal.

Following that, though, our investigation into the lead had Garrus and I end up on the Normandy crew, and catapulted us into Mass Effect events. Recruiting the other crew members, fighting Saren across the galaxy…my combat skills have improved no end (including a dual-pistol combat style, and a fancy Advanced Suit helmet a la Dead Space 2), I've formed new friendships with unlikely people (Urdnot Wrex being a prime example), and visited exciting (and often lethal) new places.

It wasn't all fun and games, though. We lost people…Ashley Williams, killed on Virmire by Saren, despite our efforts to rescue both her and Kaidan Alenko. Rebecca herself showed up dead on Saleon's ship, the Fedele, transformed into creatures resembling the necromorphs from Dead Space. The doctor himself got 'interrogated' at C-Sec, and moved to a high security Alliance prison. I've been choked by krogan, shot, attacked by a pack of varren, fallen off the skyway on Feros with only Garrus's talon saving me…we've all had our fair share of injury, that's for sure. But it was worth it, for what we accomplished.

Some serious relationships were formed over our time on the ship, too. Tali'Zorah and I 'hooked up', for lack of a better expression, as did Shepard and Garrus. But the secret of mine, about my origins and knowledge of the timeline, became more and more insecure as time went past. First, an attempt to gain a Cipher off the asari on Feros, Shiala, ended with her finding out about me, and my mind 'rejecting' the Cipher. The rachni queen herself managed to glean some information from my mind while I was unconscious for a moment on Noveria, and is now able to speak directly into my mind within a certain range, which is…disconcerting. To say the least.

In the end, though, I couldn't keep it from the people closest to me. I told Tali after our first date on the Citadel, and Garrus himself managed to work out that I was having Prothean visions from seeing Shepard sleep, so I spilled the beans to him as well. Though the two were shocked, Garrus in particular taking it hard, they eventually accepted it…and what it means. But the surprises weren't done, not by a long shot. On Ilos, I discovered to my amazement that I could understand a Prothean warning message. All this time, the Cipher must have been in my head. If I didn't think my presence would affect canon before, I sure as hell did then.

And what an effect it had. In the Battle of the Citadel, after everything we'd been through…a few words I'd said to Saren on Virmire had somehow made the difference between him being implanted by Sovereign and resisting. With the Reaper unable to exert total control, Saren managed to resist its influence long enough for Shepard to take control of the Citadel and save the Council…and Sovereign to be destroyed. In theory, it should have been perfect. Take Saren in alive, and question him.

But when have things ever worked in practice for us?

While we were distracted by the battle, Saren managed to slip a stun grenade onto the floor, incapacitating the whole squad long enough for him to escape. Though he had the chance to easily put a bullet in all of our skulls, he ran like a man with a guilty conscience. I swear I saw him mouth 'I'm sorry' before he disappeared, too. Perhaps a repentant Saren will be good for the universe…I don't know. Only time will tell. The galaxy was safe, anyway, and we could all finally relax. At least, for a few months.

Wrex left for Tuchanka, much to my chagrin (but the man has a clan to run), we all received official commendation for our role in the battle, Anderson took his place as the human councillor, and Tali, Garrus and I decided to stay on the Normandy until its destruction, the turian wanting all the time he could get with Shepard before the Collector attack, and Tali and I wanting the same for each other, postponing her return to the Flotilla. But, I had one last loose end to fix. Shiara.

The whole time, she had tried to influence my actions, telling me in no uncertain terms not to change canon. At first, I went along with it, seeing her as some super-power who could control everything with a thought…but she's not. She's a normal asari, and while she's afraid of change, I'm not anymore. Not if it can save people, and maintain the key events of the timeline. After running into Tom Sheridan of the Alliance on the way to meeting her, we had a blazing row, ending in me cutting off ties with her until she can give me concrete answers about what the hell is going on with my visions, Prothean Ciphers, and what she really knows.

After that, I returned to the Normandy and Tali…but it wasn't all over then. After talking to her in our room, deciding how to spend our break, she decided to show that even with everything going on in the galaxy, everything that was going to happen, she could trust me. I saw Tali's face, and believe me…it was amazing.

That, my friends, is where the story last left off. But before we return to the time a few months past that, first, we need to go to another time…two years ahead of it. To an asteroid in the Terminus Systems, that makes North Korea seem like an appealing holiday destination.

My name is Ian Shaw. And this? This is my story.

###############

Somehow, I always manage to come through.

An explosion chips away at the balcony Garrus and I are crouched behind, sending a shower of debris scattering over our armour and cutting my face slightly, adding yet another to the multitude of small injuries I've picked up in my time here. Garrus takes a quick glance over the ledge, then pops up with the sniper rifle, taking aim and firing with almost superhuman…well, superturian speed. There's a yell from below as the round finds its mark, and the turian retreats back as a flurry of rounds pass where his head was a second ago. Garrus looks over at me and manages a tired smile, reloading his rifle.

Not this time.

We're both not as alert as we were a few hours ago, that's for sure. My finger's starting to hurt from constantly pulling the trigger, parts of my arm ache from the repeated reloads, and my eyesight's going a bit blurry from looking through the scope so often and general tiredness. I must have killed almost fifty mercs and freelances the time we've been up here, Garrus at least matching that figure. The gunfire sounds like it's getting closer to the base, so I lob a grenade over the balcony blindly and cross my fingers. The screams from below confirm it's good.

I…I messed up.

My thoughts start to drift back to the squad, Melanis, Ripper, the rest of them…but I push them down as they begin to surface. Too late to change what happened to them, too late to worry about it. My thoughts drifting is a sign I desperately need sleep…and sleep's just about the last thing I'm going to get around here. Gunfire and explosions aren't exactly contusive to a good night's rest, and you don't go to sleep on Omega unprepared at the best of times. As soon as you let your guard down around here, even for the smallest amount of time, you're likely to find a knife in your face and pocket a lot lighter than it initially was, and that's probably the best case scenario.

We should have been safe, not in this mess. Just waiting. Waiting for something that might not even happen.

"You alright?" Garrus asks from next to me, taking a rare break from shooting to talk.

"Still alive," I sigh, reaching over to our rapidly dwindling supply of heat sinks and popping another into the rifle. "So I can't complain. You?"

"Never better," the turian grimaces. "They just keep coming. I don't even know where they got the resources for this from."

I've got a fairly good idea… "You offer money for killing us, and tell them where we are, that's gonna get a whole lot of freelancers interested. The actual mercs stopped being stupid enough to try the bridge after the first three waves."

"How many waves have we done now?" Garrus asks.

"Probably about fifteen."

"Oh."

"Yeah." I lean out, but thankfully there's no-one out there trying to shoot us. Looks like that's another wave down…they'll be sending the next lot out soon, but at least this gives a slight respite.

There really might not be a way out of this one. Shepard's cue to enter, and no sign of her.

"Is she actually coming?" Garrus suddenly says, looking at me. "Or did you just say Shepard was going to be here to give me hope?"

"She's coming," I say firmly, not quite sure I believe myself. Considering the amount canon's been fucked up…what if there's not even a dossier for us? What if we've got fight our own way out? "We've just got to hold out a little longer."

"How did we even get here…" Garrus mutters, shaking his head. "Do you remember how this all started?"

I nod. How could I forget… "Yeah, of course. The Normandy's destruction, after Shepard…" Garrus looks really sad when I say her name, so I leave it out. He's only got my word the person he loves is still alive, after all, and I'm becoming increasingly cynical that she is. "That's when I knew, some way or another, everything was probably going to go to hell."

I lean back against the wall, and begin to remember. How we've come from Saviours of the Citadel to here, just comrades in arms looking death in the eye.

#############

**Two years, one month earlier…**

Being sick really sucks.

It's a combination of factors, I guess. There's the initial queasiness, just striking when you least expect it. The whole day passes fine, then you're sitting in bed when suddenly it feels like something's wrong. You try and ignore it, but it just gets worse and worse.

Then there's the revelation of what's coming. You fight it, of course, try to hold it all back, think about something else…but it's impossible. The mad rush for the bathroom, then the act itself. The acidic taste in the mouth, lurching pains in the chest, then the ragged breaths as you try and pull yourself together afterwards, chills all over the body.

Which, coincidentally, happens to be the stage I'm at.

"Just breathe in, Ian, that's it," Doctor Chakwas says from next to me, as I try and support myself unsteadily on the rim of the toilet. Jesus, this isn't how I wanted to wake up. Tali and I had such a good time last night, too, watched a vid in bed, she took some herbal supplements just to have the mask off for a bit…got a kiss in before she had to put it back on, naturally, then we went to sleep together. I was kind of looking forward to gently waking up next to her in the morning.

But no. I get to chuck my guts up at 4am on the ship's time cycle. Life's such a bitch…

"Telling me to breathe, Chakwas, that's great advice," I manage to gasp, spitting in the bowl as I do so. "PhD obviously hard at work there. Maybe remind me to breathe out too?"

"You're irritable when you're sick," Chakwas mutters from behind me. I don't need to look to see the disapproving look on her face, lips pursed slightly, slight glare. I probably deserve that. "I mean, more than normal. Frankly, Tali, I don't know how you put up with him."

"Oh, he can be charming when he wants to be," I hear the quarian laugh behind me. "You have a point, though. Ian, don't be rude. It's not Chakwas's fault you're sick."

I shake my head slightly, but the motion makes my head pound as I do so. The vision flared up while I was sleeping, which I imagine hasn't helped matters, but the thing has never made me sick before… "I'm a detective," I grunt. "I like finding someone to blame."

"I reckon it could be an allergic reaction, you know," a new, flanging voice suggests, causing me to slowly look around at Garrus smirking down at me. Bloody hell, when did he get here? "Shepard and I have to look out for that, maybe you and Tali just got careless?"

"Oh, I didn't realise the whole crew was coming to watch," I say sardonically, then feel my stomach lurch again, but not enough to make me hurl. Come on, stop taunting me…the others notice me retch, but start talking again as soon as they realise nothing's coming of it.

"We weren't careless," Tali says firmly. She's right, too. The visor has come off plenty of times since the first night I saw her face…but we've never really taken it any further. And never kiss long enough for it to prompt a reaction this bad. "He must have just caught something, maybe it's food poisoning. Keelah, you did have that bit of chicken from the fridge that was going off…"

I moan slightly at the mention of food. Come on, not now… "It was only a day off its sell-by, and I practically incinerated it. No way." The more I think about it, the more it makes sense, though…the vision must have pushed me over the edge. Oh, man, now thinking about the chicken is making me feel sick again…shit…

I curl up in pain as my stomach empties itself, to the sound of wincing and a mutter of 'spirits, that's disgusting', then gasp for breath as the cold chills run down my body, making me shiver slightly. I don't even feel any better for throwing up like normal…

"We need to move you to the med bay," Chakwas says firmly. "Now, while you're inbetween vomiting. Garrus, help me carry him. Or drag him, whatever works best. Ian, can you walk?"

"I think so…" I say, my voice as unsteady as my body as I try to rise to my feet…and stumble into the wall slightly. I'm all over the place, raging headache, throat still burning slightly, chest heaving from my increased oxygen demand. As I grab onto Garrus's shoulder and he helps me move out the bathroom and towards the med-bay, I can't help but grimace slightly as I take in the surroundings passing me by, the centre of the Normandy I've gotten to know so well, Treysonic and big screen planted on the wall around tables and chairs, the kitchen in the corner, Liara's room and the med-bay…

Ordinarily, I'd be in a shite mood about being sick. But today, of all days…the fact I'm sick isn't even the worst part.

We've been in this system for three days now, Omega Nebula, currently cruising near Alchera. Which means today, of all days, is the day the Collectors attack.

I'm so fucked.

###########

"That's two hours without vomiting now, Ian," Garrus says sarcastically from his seat next to my med-bay bed, the rest of the squad chuckling slightly next to me from their seats. "Good job."

"Thanks, buddy," I shoot back, but I'm feeling significantly better now, five hours after I was first sick. Finally seem to have cleared out my system…and my body's decided to give me a break. For now. All that I need to do is try and convince Chakwas to let me go back to my room, so I can get Garrus and Tali together…and start getting ready for the last day on the Normandy. For Shepard being spaced.

I can't help looking over at the Commander, sandwiched between Kaidan and Liara, laughing at Garrus's comment, her green eyes sparkling slightly, brunette hair hanging loose down to her shoulders. It still doesn't feel like it's going to happen…that today, the woman I respect and admire more than I can put into words is going to die. Things will be infinitely worse for Garrus, too…shit, I feel so bad for him. For this to happen to him. But he knows it has to be done, and he's come to terms with it. I hope.

The last few months have been brilliant, no other word for them. I mean, without the direct threat of the geth, the Reapers or Saren, we've finally been able to relax a little bit. Wiping out pockets of geth resistance, sure, but it's child's play to the stuff we've been through. It's more like an adventure holiday than anything else. We do geth killing during the day, then retire back to the Normandy in the evenings.

Tali and I…has been amazing. She's a one of a kind girl, and I do feel bloody lucky waking up next to her. Sure, it's not gone further than her visor coming off yet, but I'm totally cool with that. Just having her there is good enough, her company, her awkward little nuances…yep, I couldn't be happier with that. Plus we've been able to have dates that _haven't _ended in me dropping earth-shattering revelations and just gone like a normal couple, which was cool.

On the romance side of things, Garrus and Shepard. Hoo-boy. Now, while Tali and I have been pretty laid back, taking things really slow…Shepard isn't that type of girl. While I'm fairly sure Tali and I being together has barely shown up on the news radar, through a combination of us not really being blatant about it and people not really caring about the squad members anyway, Shepard and Garrus are arguably the galaxy's favourite couple.

Well, for most people. I take a quick glance at the look Garrus is giving Shepard, small smile slipping unconsciously onto his face, and chuckle slightly. The two are really in love, no doubt about it. At first, the media kind of picked up on them being close, often seen in public together, but the Alliance spin doctors managed to work it as a close relationship of trust from what we've all been through, along with a teacher/pupil relationship.

However, they couldn't really spin Shepard kissing Garrus in public on Valentine's Day. When I say in public, I mean in the middle of the fucking Presidium. Udina could probably see them out of his window at Anderson's office, which is probably why she chose there, now that I think about it. That sparked off a bloody media frenzy. Speculation at how long it had been going on for, the issues of loving a turian, controversy over the whole thing…

Shepard had made it pretty clear from the start she wasn't going to be covert about their relationship. She didn't want to have to hide anything if it got in the way of them, and frankly I'm inclined to agree. But still, I was braced for the worst when the story broke…and it never came. I'd forgotten one important thing.

Shepard's the Saviour of the Citadel. The Council, hell, the galaxy owes her their lives. She is 100%, pure untouchable. While people might secretly have their reservations, no-one is going to publically criticise Commander freakin' Shepard. Rather than riots and stuff, people were applauding her decision, saying it shows love has no boundaries, and was encouraging reconciliation between turians and humans. Totally worked that way, too. Our species have been noticeably more friendly in recent months, and the reporting on Shepard and Garrus has been surprisingly tasteful.

Well, except Westerlund News, but there's always got to be one troll. There's been some hate, as you would expect…but Shepard and Garrus really haven't given a shit, as you'd expect too. I mean, we stopped Saren and destroyed Sovereign. Clumsily written death threats aren't very, well…threatening. Not after all that.

Of course, the psychos like Terra Firma and other crazies blew their nut over the news, but they were firmly in the minority. Gave the extranet good targets to satirise, so I guess we owe them for that. People in the galaxy never cease to surprise me…here I was expecting a massive backlash, but I guess people are more accepting than I thought. Or at least, they're making out to be now. Something tells me it could turn sour after Shepard's death…but for now, it's good. While it lasts.

As the rest of the crew place bets on how long it's gonna be until I spew again, I can't help my eyes being drawn over to Tali just sitting there, laughing along with the rest of them. She's gotten so much more confident over the past few months, way less shy, more like her Mass Effect 2 self. Still gets all nervous and cute, but…she's matured. The Pilgrimage is supposed to be a transition into adulthood for them, and it's sure as hell worked.

Even Liara's managed to brighten up a little bit over the months we've been on the Normandy, though I suspect she's still holding a bit of a grudge over it not working out between us, despite what she thought to begin with. Which is kinda my fault…but hey, at least we're talking. Sometimes. Kaidan hasn't changed a bit, he's still calling me kid, and seems to have fully accepted the Garrus/Shepard situation, despite his initial misgivings. Then again, seeing as the vast majority of the galaxy has (at least publically), I can't say that's an enormous surprise.

Then there's Wrex. Been keeping in touch with him over mail, the odd video call whenever we both get the chance, which isn't quite as often as I'd like. He's ruling Urdnot at the moment, keeping Wreav in his place, all that good stuff. I'm proud of him. He does send some incredibly funny messages about what he's been getting up to in krogan politics…most of the time, it sounds like The West Wing, but if everyone was allowed to punch each other whenever they wanted. Which, Wrex and I both agree, is the best kind of politics.

That's been developments over the past few months, anyway. Council has almost totally swept the Reapers under the rug, despite Shepard and the rest of us constantly bringing it up, and Anderson's best efforts. This mission we're doing with wiping out geth is supposed to ensure they can't build another army again…but that's not really out biggest problem. Shepard's even said she's gonna call them out on it publically really soon. Which makes today even worse.

This happy little bubble I've been living in all this time…hell, this bubble we've all been living in, it's gonna pop today. Our home's gonna be destroyed. The rock that holds us all together, the light that guides us, Shepard, is gonna be snuffed out. Liara's going to go down her path of redemption, Kaidan can continue his Alliance career, Tali will go back to the Flotilla and Garrus to Omega. I've already tried to say goodbye to everyone who doesn't know my secret as best as I can…but not being able to be honest about it didn't help there. Still, I've made my peace with them.

It never really bothered me before, what happens when Shepard dies. I mean, some small part of my mind keeps forgetting that I have to live through the gap between ME1 and 2. I already know I'll be going back to C-Sec with Garrus until he leaves…but I'm not sure if I'm going with him. Omega is something he might need to deal with himself, seeing how important it is to him as a character, and I'm not too keen on becoming a vigilante. Not too keen on letting him go, either, but Garrus can handle himself. And I can always warn him about his squad when the time is right, now that change isn't as much of a concern since I told Shiara to fuck off after the Battle of the Citadel.

Haven't heard from her since, actually. Glad she's respected my decision…but the total radio silence is a little disconcerting. She doesn't seem the type to just give up and leave, so I imagine she'll still be keeping an eye on me somehow. As far as I'm concerned, though, let her watch. I'll give her a hell of a show.

If Garrus leaves by himself, though, that would just leave me on the Citadel alone. Unless I can convince Tali to stay…I mean, she doesn't have to go back to the Flotilla straight away for the timeline to work. I mean, by my estimations, we could take another year, at least. But I'd have to run that by her, and I'm not quite sure how she'd take that kind of offer. Then again, given the strength of our relationship, I can't see her saying no to another year together…

That kind of planning isn't for now, anyway. I can see Chakwas advancing across the med-bay towards us all, clipboard in hand. I think my vomiting phase has gone past, so this should be me getting discharged. Good. I hate being really ill. I doubt that chicken helped matters, but I swear to God, that vision I had was so strong. Haven't had it that bad for a long while…and it seems to have made me physically ill, or at least tipped me over the edge after the chicken. And just when I thought I was getting on top of the damn things. Bloody Shiara…

"You're suffering all the symptoms of a bad hit of food poisoning," Chakwas says sympathetically, as she stands by my bedside and the rest of the squad listen in. "Doesn't look like it's a virus, anyway. Keep hydrated, rest in bed, and you should be right as rain soon." Oh, great, stay in bed. I'll see if I can attach some wheels to it and get Tali to push me into the escape pod or something. Of all the days to become sick, why today! Especially when I know what's going to happen! What part of my mind made me think risking that chicken was a good idea the day before my life is going to be in serious danger?

"I think the vomiting's passed, at least for now," I mutter, trying to sit up and getting an almighty headrush that almost sends me straight back down again. I can hear Garrus chuckling as I clamber slowly off the bed, and he sticks out his arm to indicate I can lean on his shoulder, which I gratefully accept. Even though he's a good fifty centimetres or so taller than me, which makes actually leaning on him a pain, but it beats the alternative. "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it," Garrus replies casually. "I'll walk you back to your room."

"I'll come too," Tali nods. Ah, I see. I did tell them to meet up with me today, in order to wait for the escape pods. Not taking any risks, so I guess this is them giving us an excuse to go and do that. Bloody hell…this is it. I keep expecting some hit of anticipation and fear about it, but part of me just plain isn't expecting it to happen. Not after everything we've been through, to just get torn apart in one day. For Shepard to die. For the Normandy to be destroyed. It's just so crazy to even think about it, I'm not sure I want to.

"Make sure he's comfortable," Shepard smiles at me. "Take it easy today, Ian. I'm sure we'll be able to cope without you for one day." I grin weakly back, almost wincing of the irony of the statement. I wish she could cope with today…but, Tali, Garrus and I know it's not going to happen. He'll have to go and try and say goodbye somehow properly today. He says he's ready for it happening…but nothing can prepare you for this kind of thing. At least her resurrection is some consolation for him, I guess. Not much, but the knowledge she's coming back is reassuring. I have to keep telling myself that, anyway.

"Nice to know I'm so valued in the field," I chuckle, trying to make light of her statement. "But thanks for caring, Shepard." Hell, this could potentially be the last time I talk to her for two years… "You've always been a good Commander like that. Really. I know I don't say it much, but I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Shepard. For all of us."

She raises her eyebrows, giving me an inquisitive look. "You know, Chakwas said you were supposed to be irritable when you're ill."

"Mood swings," I shrug, actually feeling like welling up a bit. I almost want to warn her…but I can't do that. Fuck. "I just realised I never really mentioned stuff like that before."

"Well, uh…thanks," Shepard says, a little unsurely, then a little smile creeps onto her face. "It's really not like you, though. Are you sure you're feeling well enough to be walking?"

"Is it really that surprising I'm being nice?" I ask incredulously, watching the other squad members laugh slightly at that. "Kaidan? I'm a nice guy!"

The LT just chuckles slightly. "Sure, kid. Whatever you say."

"I don't know why I bother," I say, but can't help smiling a little bit. "Express some gratitude for once, and this happens. Screw you guys."

"It is unlikely we would need your assistance in the field anyway, though," Liara points out, then catches the frown on my face. "I am not implying you are useless, Ian. But we've been in this sector for days now, and there has been no trace of geth. The Council may have sent us here to have us out of the picture for a while."

"Exactly what I've been thinking," Shepard mutters. "They still refuse to see the Reapers as a real threat, despite the fact one almost killed them. A job I'm tempted to make good on." I don't doubt her, to be honest. "They can't keep wasting our time like this. We don't know what they're planning, what the Prothean long-term plan Vigil told us is, we don't have any answers, and they send us here to search for ghosts!"

Kaidan shrugs from his seat. "We should be checking if the geth are completely gone, Commander. But you're right. They're trying to cover this up, like they did with Saren's escape." He's got a point there. Ask anyone you want in the galaxy about Saren, they'll think he's dead. That's how the Council sold it, said we couldn't recover his body because it got lost in all the destruction. Of course, there's conspiracy theories that he's still alive and kicking, and it's kind of amusing for once that all the crazy people are actually right.

"I'll talk to Anderson about it when we get back to the Citadel," Shepard sighs, shaking her head. "We could do with some time off there, anyway. Right Garrus?" She looks up at the turian, and gives him a broad grin. Oh, Shepard, any day but today…Garrus smiles back, but there's a definite sadness behind it. Fortunately, Shepard doesn't notice. "Anyway. Ian, go and get rested up. That's an order."

"Well, technically, since I'm not Alliance, you can't really order me around," I point out.

"Technically, since you're not Alliance, that means I'm allowed to hit you."

"I'm going, I'm going," I mutter, holding onto Garrus for support as Tali walks next to us. Shit, this is probably the last time with Shepard I'll have for two years, so… "See you, Commander. I meant what I said before."

She just laughs again, then gives me a genuine smile afterwards. "I know. And thanks, Ian. It's nice to get some appreciation."

"Don't mention it," I reply as I walk out of the door, forcing a smile onto my face, but it quickly fades as it slides shut behind me.

See you in two years, Shepard.

#########

"How long now?"

"I don't know, Garrus. I haven't been able to pull that information out my ass since the last ten times you asked."

Tali gives me what's presumably a disapproving look, based off her body language. Folded arms, eyes wider than normal behind the visor…yeah, I don't think she appreciated me being snippy there. And it wasn't fair for me to be like that, either. But we've been waiting in my room for what must be hours now, I'm suited up in my custom armour…and we're all beginning to become a little impatient. I get the distinct feeling my sickness is coming back, and it's already moving into the late afternoon. Maybe, through some freak knock-on effect of my actions, they won't attack…man, I'm not sure if that'd be good or bad. Great, now I've got myself even more worked up about it. Fanfuckingtastic.

"Sorry," I say quickly, and the turian gives me a quick nod of acceptance. He's already been to say goodbye to Shepard as best he can, but the longer he has to wait, the harder this is going to be for him. Harder it is for all of us. God, I hate waiting for anything, and I know the moment any of us let our guard down is the moment they'll strike. "I don't like this either, but all we can do is just wait. It can't be long now."

"Great," the turian mutters, folding his arms again and leaning against the wall. "Because the anticipation is _really _killing me over here."

"We all want this over and done with," Tali says calmly, trying to lower the tension a few notches. Good effort on her part…but I think we're all going to need a bit more than relaxed words. Still, beats sitting around not talking at all. "It's what comes after that concerns me. I was thinking about it today, and…well, the media is going to be in a frenzy about this. And we're going to be in the middle of it."

Shit, that's not something I've really considered. The Council and press do go to pretty good lengths to discredit Shepard after she dies, actually, and now the whole Garrus and Shepard thing is public…fuck, he's gonna get absolutely hounded by them. Hell, we all are, but Garrus is probably going to get this the worst. This is so bloody unfair on him. Kinda why I was going to hold off on telling him the truth about me…but he worked it out for himself. This is best in the long run, anyway. Besides, I can back him up with the media.

"Well, we've dealt with worse than journalists, right?" I ask rhetorically, trying to laugh light-heartedly and just sounding like I'm having a coughing fit.

"I'd rather face down a geth armature, to be honest," the turian says, trying to smile a little bit. "At least I can shoot one of them. And you're not going to be able to punch every journalist we come across this time, Ian."

I laugh a little bit, properly this time, thinking back to Al-Jilani. Hitting her, then managing to stick a fine on her…God, that was such a dick thing to do, but she totally deserved it. "Well, if she's ever stupid enough to try a one on one interview again, I'll push my luck twice. But we can't worry about the media. If they push us about Shepard, push us into having to justify anything we did, then we push back twice as hard."

"Or you could just be sick on them," Garrus grins.

I sigh slightly. Man, just mentioning the word 'sick' is making me feel queasy again… "It's not a permanent thing, Garrus. I plan on getting better, you know."

He just shrugs. "Turians don't really get ill as often as your species does."

"Says the guy who had a cold after Noveria because he didn't wear warm enough clothes."

Tali suddenly starts laughing at that, and a genuine grin comes onto my face. Ah, I love back and forth with him… "It's true, Garrus. We all know you tried to hide it, but you sounded like someone was covering up your nose or something that day."

"Don't remind me about that," the turian chuckles, shaking his head. "We might not get ill as often, then, but it probably feels worse when we do because of that. Couldn't breath through my nostrils for days…plus I had to put up with Shepard saying 'I told you so' for a week after that." He suddenly sighs, and the smile kind of dies on his face. "She always does little things like that, teases me because she knows I get annoyed easily…"

Yep, he's back to being sad. And just like that, the reality of the situation comes crashing down on the room again. We're waiting for our home to get blown up, our Commander and, in Garrus's case, lover, to go along with it. If we try and do anything about it, we'll probably end up screwing the whole galaxy over in the process.

Well, this is fucking depressing.

"You know, I think that chicken might not have been the whole story here," I say, desperately searching for something to keep the conversation going, even if it's just between Tali and I. Talking about sickness is making my tummy rumble, in a bad way, but I can't bear just sitting there and looking at Garrus being miserable, being able to do shit-all about it. Just gotta try keeping our minds off it… "I had a bad vision beforehand."

"I noticed that," Tali nods. "You started grunting, shifting about a lot…then you got up all wide-eyed, said 'fuck', then ran to the bathroom." It always sounds so funny to hear Tali swear…but I put it to one side.

"I think the vision might have had something to do with it, though," I shrug. "Can't pin it on anything particular, since the content hasn't changed or anything, but…I dunno. I just have a feeling about it."

Garrus looks over at me, brow plates furrowed slightly, mandibles widened. "It's never made you sick before, though. Why would that st-"

BOOM.

The whole cabin lurches to one side and throws me out of bed, slamming into the floor hard on my forearms, while Garrus and Tali stagger from their positions. As I heave myself up, arms burning slightly from the friction, my sickness addled brain doesn't take long to realise what's happening.

They're here. As sudden as they were in game…one second, we're fine, next the whole world is shifting around me.

"Keelah..." I faintly hear Tali say, above the din of explosions and warning claxons, as the light in the room goes out, and is quickly replaced by a lightly flashing red one. I mean, the game made it look bad...but we're pitching wildly about, all of us struggling to stand as Joker banks us around, and the Collector laser tears mercilessly into the ship. For some reason, I it was going to be as simple as just running to an escape pod. Fuck, I didn't think this through!

"Move! Everyone, out!" Garrus bellows, and my survival instinct begins to kick in as the ship rocks violently again. Tali rushes out first, Garrus standing in the doorway as I make my way towards him, heartbeat racing as I literally hear the blood pumping around. Just like that…the SR-1 is being ripped apart. After all the waiting, the slight belief that maybe it just wouldn't happen, the Collectors have arrived. And we need to act.

"Ian!" The turian's shout rips my attention back to the doorway, as I make my way towards it, feeling my stomach heave slightly from all the ship's shaking and lurching. Shit, not now… "Come on! Can you move by yourself?"

"I'm fine!" I shout back, signalling furiously with my hand for him to press on. "Get outta here, Garrus, it's too dangerous!" The turian looks unsure for a second, as we make eye contact…then he gives a slight nod, and bolts into the corridor. I stagger out a few seconds later…and fuck me, what a sight it is.

Fire. Casting a flickering orange light all across the corridors, a smoke haze beginning to settle in the higher portion of the air, the smell of melting plastic making me gag slightly. I push forward as quick as I can, with all the sensations and sickness weighing down on me, hearing the screams of the servicemen and women as they dash towards the pods, a horrible screeching sound presumably from a Collector laser shearing part of the ship off…

There's a sudden shift in the ground, and a crewman barges into me on his way past, sending me falling towards the ground again before I can stop myself. Shit! I try sticking an arm out, but my forehead collides first with a solid smack…and then it flares up again.

The vision. Turning everything completely orange, fire still dancing in my view as the Reapers destroy everything in their path, the screams of destruction, Shepard's silhouette falling on the battle field, laser lighting up the sky…

A real laser. Bright orange, tearing through the ship, as I see it through an observation window. And just like that, I'm wrenched back into reality…and feel my stomach rising from the shift. Oh, no…

I try and clamber back onto my feet, but that just makes the whole thing worse, as I double up and retch, despite nothing coming out, pain making it impossible to move. I try and look down the corridor, but the thick smoke makes it impossible to see the escape pods, and the burning plastic is mixing with what I think is burning flesh. Not my own, but it can't be too far off…

I grit my teeth and start crawling forward, with literally nothing more to be thrown up, raising myself up to my knees as the Normandy bucks wildly once again, laser getting ever closer. I am not gonna die here! No damn way…

"_Tali…" _I can only croak slightly, as I start staggering forward, "_Garrus…help…" _I dunno how much further away they are. Shit, what if they've already launched? They won't have, no w-

"IAN!" a flanging voice yells, as the glow of a familiar blue visor draws closer, and Garrus bursts through the smoke and looks at me in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" I manage to force out through my burning throat, trying to steady my heaving chest as much as I can. So much for an easy fucking escape...

Garrus just shakes his head, then grunts and picks me up, charging back down towards the pods. I've still got stomach cramps and light-headedness from throwing up, but my senses are coming back as Garrus finally hurls me into the pod and follows in afterwards. He saved my life…again. That's another one I owe him.

"Do you think there's any more crew left?" I can hear Tali shout to him, her voice muffled slightly but the noises of destruction, alarm still blaring through the air.

Garrus shakes his head. "I didn't see any! Besides, if we don't go now, we're dead! Hold on!" Before anyone else can do anything, he presses a talon onto the control panel…and we shoot out into the vast expanse of space, force of being propelled pushing me back into my seat until our velocity gradually starts slowing, and I slowly start to calm my breathing back down. Still alive…just. That was way, way too close. I feel like retching again from the ejection, the stress, the shock of actually living through all that...but close my eyes for a moment and take controlled, deep breaths. Not like I've got anything left to throw up, anyway.

"Are you aright?" Tali asks hurriedly, looking over at me. To be honest, I feel terrible, splitting headache, ears ringing from the noise, stomach cramps…but she doesn't need to know that.

"I'll be fine," I lie, craning my head around a looking out of the window…and seeing the true scale of destruction. The Normandy is barely hanging together, previously pristine white paint charred and broken up, lasers ravaging what little remains in its original state. Everything we've been through together…gone. Pressly, all the crew members who couldn't get out, Shepard…the Normandy itself. The ship that defeated Sovereign, just torn apart in front of our eyes. And there's nothing we can do to stop it.

Then, the laser shears straight through the middle of the ship, and with an enormous explosion it splits in two, both halves catapulted away from each other, making me wince slightly and reel back as the shockwave bumps the escape pod. Fucking hell…I actually feel like crying, as the previously majestic Normandy just splits. And then, floating away from it all…a tiny red and black coloured pinprick, barely visible, just floating towards the planet's surface

I look over my shoulder to see Garrus staring out of the window too, lonely tear running down his face. Fuck…it's all over. Mass Effect 1. In the space of five minutes, Shepard and the Normandy are gone.

"What do we do now?" Tali suddenly asks, voicing what we're all presumably thinking, as I turn back around to see her staring at me along with Garrus. I try to think of something to say, something reassuring…but come up blank.

And for the first time in a long, long while, I feel totally helpless.

"I don't know."

* * *

**MASSES TO MASSES 3**

* * *

**A/N: Well, that sets us up rather nicely. Mass Effect 1's events are over…and the two year gap finally begins.**

**So, hoped you enjoyed that! MtM is back, finally! I realise a lot of that chapter was covering what happened in the months in-between the Battle of the Citadel and the point Ian's at now, but that was all obviously important stuff. And Ian wasn't just randomly sick there. There's a story behind all that…too bad we won't be touching on that for a long, long while, hahaha. **

**Next up, the aftermath. There's**** a funeral to attend, a life to restart on the Citadel, and a certain quarian might have to finally return to the Flotilla. Look forward to that!**

**Nice to be back. Reviews, as always, are appreciated, and I hope this has got everything off to a good start for everyone!**

**See you next chapter!**

**P.S: For all you Twitter users (yes, all five of you), I have a Twitter feed now, on iNf3ctioNZ_UK. And I started a prequel fic to Masses to Masses 1. Check my profile!**


	2. Ian vs The Goodbye

Chapter 2

The Fray: Vienna

**A/N: Something I only realised after releasing last chapter…Ian was wearing his custom armour suit during the escape from the Normandy. So no, the sliding helmet and dragon design haven't been lost. Thanks to everyone who reminded me about that.**

**Also, once we get to the funeral section, I recommend listening to the song. Definitely listen in the spaceport section as well.**

**Let's get cracking!**

#########

"Ian! What can you tell us about Commander Shepard's seemingly insane pattern of decisions in her investigation against Saren?"

"Ian! In light of the new information the Council has released about Commander Shepard, do you have any comment to make about her seeming abuse of power?"

"Was Commander Lara Shepard really a rogue agent?"

"Is it true that her relationship with Garrus Vakarian had been going on for months before the public knew?"

"Was the turian a distracting influence?"

"What's in those bags you're carrying?"

I finally whirl around to face the mass of reporters outside our apartment building, shooting them all a collective glare, shopping bags clutched tightly in my hands. If my fingernails were sharp, they'd probably be digging enough to make my palms bleed.

Back on the Normandy, I'd suspected the media coverage about Shepard would turn sour after she died.

Unfortunately, I've been proven correct. Far, far too well. All of the surviving crew have been hounded for the past three days, but no-one more than Garrus. And because we share the same apartment, combined with the fact it's common knowledge we were partners at C-Sec and close friends, that means I'm getting it almost as bad. Not to mention Tali, since she's staying with us too.

I don't know the last question makes me turn around, but I feel something in me snap as it does, as I stare at the asari reporter who asked, smug little grin on her face. Dammit, as much as I'd like to, I can't punch reporters unless there's no witnesses…

"Can you repeat that?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and taking a small step towards her. The fact I can't even go and buy food without an attempted interrogation is seriously, seriously pissing me off, so I'm gonna give her once chance to realise I'm in a bad mood and back down.

"What's in those bags you're carrying?" the reporter repeats. I glance down at the plain green bags, then back up at her, both my eyebrows raised. Goes straight over her head. "And where did you get them from? Are they related to Shepard?"

Right that's it. You ask a stupid question, girl, you're going to get an even more stupid answer. "Actually, yes," I snap, and the eyes of every single reporter whirls upon me, cameras poised and at the ready, presumably all on record. Good. "I just came back from Council offices with these. In this one," I lift the right hand bag, "there's evidence that Shepard was actually just Saren in disguise the whole time. And in the left one, I've got proof that this entire universe doesn't even exist, and is actually a parallel reality of a video game world. Seriously, the stuff here would blow your mind." I look in the bag, then feign surprise, shaking my head. "Oh shit, no, it's some onions. Sorry guys."

"There's no need to be snippy, Ian," the asari replies haughtily, as there's a chorus of sighs from the ones stupid enough to think they were actually gonna get a story. "The public has a right to hear about this story. It's a serious issue. In relation to her, and whatever relationships she might have been courting behind their backs."

Did she just try and get all high and mighty with me? "There isn't an issue to discuss," I growl. "Lara Shepard was a great woman. She was a hero. Everything she did was for the right reasons, no matter what the Council want to say now she's gone. Her relationship with Garrus was love. That simple. All this controversy is people too afraid to move on from the dark ages. She stopped Saren, saved the galaxy…we owe her a damn statue in the Presidium and a galactic holiday in her honour, not this! "

"There's strong evidence to suggest a series of irrational decisions by her, along with a paper trail of destruction across the galaxy, leaving local government and the taxpayer to foot the bill for your mission," a male, human reporter suddenly throws in. "A mission that some analysts argue should have seen its conclusion much earlier, and the destruction the Citadel has seen could have been averted. How can you justify that Commander Shepard did everything fo-"

"I can justify it, alright," I say, cutting him off. "Just not to obnoxious, close-minded idiots like you who refuse to see the bloody truth." The man's mouth drops open a little in surprise…fuck, I _really _shouldn't have said that. This is exactly what the bastards wanted, get me wound up so I make myself look bad. Still, now that I've started... "And those analysts? Why don't we stick them into the middle of a battlefield, with billions of lives on the line, and see if they can get it done any better, eh? Anyone with an _ounce _of common sense knows Shepard's a hero. This 'reporting', this 'issue', tarnishes her memory. You want to weave your stories and make her look bad to sell your bandwidth faster, get more views, make a name for yourself, then be my guest. Just don't expect people to sit down and eat up the lies."

I look each one in the eye individually, working my way around as they all look slightly shocked at my outburst. Some are checking their cameras, presumably to make sure they got all that, others just stare straight back at me. Well, I know what I'm going to be seeing on the news tonight…fuck. I'm not just gonna roll over and take it, though. After three days, they finally snapped me. Well, congratulations, assholes. If I'm gonna go on the record, may as well make my position perfectly clear.

"Thank you," I say quietly, turning around and heading to the apartment building's door, beginning to pull it open as the clamour of shouts starts again, questions and my name hurled at my back. Again, though, one makes me glance back quickly, holding the door open slightly with my hand.

"Will you be attending Commander Shepard's funeral later today?"

The calibre of questions is just unreal… "Yes, I'll be attending," I say firmly, starting to head through the door, then pull back slightly. "And I hope to God none of you have invites." With that, I slam the door shut behind me, and stride towards the elevator up to our floor.

Fuck the Council. Seriously. I was beginning to gain a little respect for them after the Battle of the Citadel, at least initially, but now…fuck 'em. I knew they were gonna do something like this anyway, but not so soon. And not so grand. I'm sure Anderson tried to stop it…but he's just one man. I sigh, anger finally extinguished, and press the button in the lift for my floor. Man, I shouldn't have just vented on them like that. I've given them a story now, even if it's me defending Shepard.

I'm just not used to media attention. I mean, these guys are relentless, and the Council is just feeding their ever-growing hunger. A barrage of classified 'leaks', relating to property damage, complaints from angry Noverians, decisions Shepard made that the Council obviously knew were controversial…I mean, they're not dumb enough to release anything about the rachni or something, but they're sure as hell making a good effort to discredit her. The media's just following the money trail it leads them on. No news sells quite like bad news, after all.

It's been on and on for three days, though. I mean, first getting rescued from the pod was harrowing enough, spending hours just floating while feeling sick. Especially with Garrus crying quietly for the first part of the trip, though I don't blame him for a second. Then actually getting picked up by a passing Alliance ship, the questions on there, moving back to the Citadel…debriefing with the Council, then preparations starting for Shepard's funeral. It's been hectic. To put it lightly.

Of course, it would have been hectic even if they hadn't been throwing questions at us all the time. Some of the ship crew have had to go and see psychiatrists after the Normandy's destruction, struggling with the grief…even they're still considered legitimate media targets, though nothing on the scale us squad members have had it. Kaidan and Liara have stuck around for the funeral in hotels, declining the offer to stay with us, but I know for a fact they're being bothered constantly. Tali's staying with Garrus and I at the moment, and she _really _doesn't like the questions. Plus, the journalists would have a field day if Garrus went out there, and I don't think for a second his temper would hold, so it was agreed I'd go out for supplies, that sort of thing.

The whole Garrus/Shepard thing has kinda been flipped on its head too…I mean, there's definitely less of a positive vibe about it now she's gone. Nothing major, but it's gone downhill. The people who are against it seem to be getting a lot more time on the air than before, anyway, plus there's the whole question of whether Shepard being in a relationship during the mission affected performance. The vast majority is blatant racism, except they're just veiling it slightly by saying 'being in love with a crew member is unprofessional', stuff like that. It's a load of bullshit.

It's certainly led to me watching the news a lot more, though, which has raised a minor point to think about. I already told Tali about the risk of a Cerberus attack on the Flotilla and the details I remember, courtesy of Mass Effect: Ascension…but there's been absolutely no sign of any of the events that start that off, and I've been looking hard. It should have started two months after the Battle of the Citadel, and it hasn't. I don't know what Jiro, Paul Grayson and Cerberus are up to…maybe the project's just been delayed. It's a little worrying, anyway, but there's not a great deal I can do about that.

I heft the shopping bags as the elevator finally reaches the apartment's floor, striding out and unlocking the door with my omni-tool. It slides open as I get within a few feet of it, and Garrus and Tali glance over from the kitchen as I walk in.

"You look like you're in a good mood," Garrus chuckles, as I dump the bags on the kitchen worktop with a growl, and both the quarian and turian walk over to help me unpack. "Did you have a nice talk with our friends outside?"

"Lovely," I mutter, but can't help laughing slightly at his comment. To be fair, whatever happens, Garrus and Tali can cheer me up. "I might have snapped a bit at them, though."

Tali gives me a quick glance. "What do you mean by snapped?"

"Got a bit angry at one of their questions. Long story short, my face is probably going to be on the news tonight. Caption underneath reading 'crazy man defends Commander Shepard'."

"Did you defend her well, though?" Tali asks. "You told them what everyone should know?"

I nod, a little confused. "Yeah, of course, but-"

"Then forget about it being on the news," she says gently. "You didn't say anything you should be embarrassed of. Now, unpack, and come and sit down with Garrus and I. We were just about to watch a vid."

God, I love you.

"Alright," I grin back. "Shouldn't we take a little bit of time to get ready for the funeral, though? I need to get my suit sorted and everything…" Then again, watching a vid is gonna keep our minds off it as long as possible. Can't complain about that.

"It's not a long one," Garrus explains quickly, allaying whatever fears I had anyway. "It's a turian war film. Your favourite, Ian." Damn, he's right there. Turian movies are the shit. Very little plot, very excessive violence. If Michael Bay was making movies in this time, he'd make turian war vids. Exactly the kind of thing to just switch off my mind to.

"Well, now you've said that, I can't possibly refuse," I chuckle, putting the last loaf of bread into the levo-amino cupboard as Tali and Garrus finish stacking the dextro one. "You ever seen a turian movie before, Tali?"

She shakes her head. "No. But, I'm looking forward to seeing it. Get an idea of turian culture." Oh, you'll get more than that… "We need to start getting ready in two hours, though, so we should watch now. Come on." She grabs my hand, entwining her three fingers with my five, and practically drags me over to the couch.

I'm sure a more sombre mood is going to settle in at the funeral…but right now, this suits me fine. We can take an hour or so to enjoy each other's company before it all sets in again. The fact we were all forewarned about her death has made it a lot easier, anyway, though I'm sure emotions are going to rise up again once we get there. But for now, savour being with Tali. She's going to have to leave for the Flotilla after the funeral. Her Pilgrimage is finally over…

As Garrus settles down in a chair near us and starts the vid playing, I start thinking a little bit. Rael'Zorah is obviously an issue, since I need to make sure he survives for Tali's sake…but other than that, the only thing really important is for her to be on Freedom's Progress, and do her mission on Haestrom. A few months staying on the Citadel isn't going that, maybe a year at a push. She can make sure Rael has safety measures in place when she goes back, as well.

I mean, it's not even that much of a change, when I think about it. Everything would still happen as it's supposed to in regards to the important, key events…and Rael could live. I'm not quite sure how to go about warning her about the geth parts, or that she'll be tried for treason…but I don't think there's ever going to be an easy way of doing that. Her father's research is gonna happen one way or another, so at least if she's involved we can limit the damage. Plus those events kind of spark up the issue of geth and quarian conflict.

Well, I can tell her about that later. If she's forewarned, I imagine the blow will be slightly softer. But it works. I don't think I'll be joining Garrus when he goes to Omega anyway, vigilante justice not really being my thing, especially since Omega is…well, Omega. I could help with saving his squad, though that'd have to wait until late on. If I told him about Sidonis straight away, he'd just kill him, and it's probably best if that doesn't happen. I imagine he was useful before he turned traitor.

So, I'm staying on the Citadel. And Tali could stay, at least for about a year. No worrying about war, fighting…just C-Sec work and real, normal life. It's perfect. I just need to ask her about it.

"Tali-" I begin to say quietly, but the quarian lifts up one finger to my lips.

"Just enjoy the film, Ian," she replies, then rests her head on my shoulder slightly. Maybe not now, then. I can bring it up after the funeral…yeah, that works.

I let a little grin spread over my face, as the thoughts of a life with Tali and without constant gunfire and danger start to run through my mind.

############

**2 hours later: en route to Shepard's funeral**

"I don't really like suits," I mutter, as Garrus slowly brings us to a halt outside the cemetery gates. One of the rare places on the Citadel with real grass and soil, and there's a slow procession of invited people advancing in, Alliance officials and the like. I saw the reporters being held back a good distance by C-Sec when we were flying here, so that's a relief. Man, this is gonna be depressing…but honouring her memory is right. Even though Shepard's coming back in two years, it doesn't change the fact that, right now, she's dead. "Dunno why. Just never have."

"I don't really think that's the big issue here," Garrus replies, a little tetchily, as he pops open the cruiser doors. He's dressed for the occasion in turian formal attire…even taking the visor off. He looks surprisingly different without it, actually. I can see why he's a little tetchy, though…I mean, this is gonna be hard for him, and that little comment probably hasn't helped matters.

"Sorry," I say, feeling a wee bit embarrassed. It's kind of my natural instinct to try and lighten up a gloomy situation. Which, obviously, isn't so good at a funeral. Garrus just gives me a curt not of his head, popping the cruiser doors and heading out towards the cemetery.

I move to follow, then feel a light touch on my arm that pulls me back, Tali's eyes twinkling slightly as she looks at me. "Give him his time today," she says quietly. "He needs it."

"I know," I sigh slightly. "That's what the vid was for, wasn't it? I'm assuming you suggested it to try and keep his mind off this."

"I suggested it for all of us," Tali replies. "This is…Keelah, even though you said it was coming, it's still hard to believe she's gone. For now, anyway. I just didn't want to think about it this morning."

I nod my head slowly. I know exactly what she means, seeing as I was probably the most prepared for this…but actually seeing the cemetery, the people filing in, it's bringing up the emotions. "You're telling me," I say, smiling, though it's a little sad. "Now we're here, though, time to face it. Say goodbye properly."

"You're right," Tali says, giving my arm a little squeeze as we start to climb out of the cruiser. Man, little things like that remind me I don't want her to go back to the Flotilla just yet…shit, I shouldn't ask her about staying just before the funeral, not like this. It can wait until after, even though her shuttle is scheduled pretty much straight after the funeral. That's still enough time to talk, though. "At least we can get some closure like this." We're out of the shuttle and walking towards the cemetery now, when she suddenly stops dead and leans her head forward slightly. "Is that Wrex?"

Wrex? I frantically scan the crowd…and it doesn't take long to see a familiar looking krogan, in surprisingly formal attire. For their species, anyway. Well, at least the funeral is positive in some way. "Yeah, that's him," I say, a little excitedly. I've really missed him, even though we've still been in touch…man, this ought to be good. Though from the reaction I got from the first time I tried on the Normandy, a hug probably wouldn't be such a good idea. "I'm gonna go see how he's doing. You coming?"

"I think I'm going to check on Garrus," Tali replies. "I'm not sure if it's such a good idea for him to be by himself. If I find him, I'll see if he wants to come over to see you two."

"Wrex'll love that," I say, smiling a little bit as we pass through the main gates. I recognise a few faces…Hackett, a couple of higher up Alliance types I met after the Battle of the Citadel, catch a quick glimpse of Udina. From the sounds of conversation as I move towards the krogan, the Council ought to turn up too. Two faced bastards. I'm good about Anderson showing, but the others shouldn't be allowed in at all. How they'll be able to sit here and go along with the funeral, a mark of respect for Shepard, is beyond me. Guess I'd never make a good politican.

The cemetery itself is a standard affair, headstones dotted about the place, Shepard's casket laid out in the relevant spot, Alliance flag over it, with seats set out for everyone present. It's not a big place, but actually feeling grass under my feet and seeing the trees makes something of a change, especially given the amount of destruction the Citadel's seen. Somehow, this place managed to avoid the damage…as did our apartment. Water from the Presidium flows past gently on either side, and there's an understated beauty to it, which I think she would have liked. Shepard wouldn't have liked anyone messing around with fancy decorations or massive pomp and ceremony…

Wrex finally catches sight of me as I get within about ten metres, eyes lighting up slightly as he does, and a rare grin forming on the krogan's face. I can't help beaming too, as I finally reach him, grab his outstretched hand and slap him on the back in greeting. "Wrex! How're you doing, man?"

"I forgot how damn enthusiastic you were," he grunts, as I finally pull back from the probably too over-dramatic greeting. Ah well. "But I'm alright. Given the circumstances, anyway." He glances over at Shepard's coffin for emphasis. "It's a bad business, what happened. I didn't ever think someone like her would die. Shepard could've taken on half my clan and still come out on top."

"I didn't think she'd go either," I lie, but what else can I do? Say I knew it was coming? "After everything we'd accomplished. The Council turning on us like this makes it worse, too, sweeping the Reapers under the rug, even when they saw one with their own eyes."

"Don't remind me," Wrex growls. "They'd better have put me as far away from those bastards as possible, or I'll end up squashing Velarn's head with my bare hands." I chuckle slightly, catching sight of Tali talking to Garrus, who's leaning on a railing overlooking the Presidium. "How's the turian taking it?" Wrex suddenly asks. Ah, presumably he followed my line of sight…

"Not so great," I admit. "He wants to think he's over it, I reckon, but he's not quite there yet. This ought to help him, though. They really did love each other."

Wrex grunts in laughter slightly. "You're telling me. I kept pointing that out to you on the Normandy, didn't I? Almost from day one." I laugh a little at that too. That he did… "Honestly, I feel bad for him. Losing his mate like that."

"Feeling compassion for Garrus?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Wrex just glowers at me. "You two really have come a long way, haven't you?"

"He's alright by me," the krogan replies. "I don't think he's your average turian, anyway. Though I resent you implying I don't have feelings."

"You usually do a good job of hiding that fact."

"You usually do a good job of hiding the fact you're a competent warrior."

"I've missed our conversations like this, Wrex."

"Bah."

We both stare out over the cemetery for a minute, just sharing the silence, listening to the quiet murmur of conversation and the water flowing past. "Were you on the ship when it happened?" he finally asks.

"Yeah," I slowly nod. "I was sick that day, too. Tali and Garrus were in my room when it happened…barely got out alive. Garrus had to come back and rescue me while I was throwing up."

Wrex shakes his head a little. "I should've known someone would have had to save you." I just roll my eyes at him, making the krogan smile slightly. "At least you still have Tali," he points out, looking over at her again. "You two are still together?"

"Yeah. Your efforts to get us together have worked in the long term, so congratulations," I reply. I probably do have him to thank for it, actually…never thought Urdnot Wrex would have been the one playing matchmaker on the Normandy, but there you go.

"Did you get any further under that suit?"

My jaw drops slightly at the question, which sets Wrex off laughing as quietly as he can before I recover. I should've known he of all people would ask something like that. "No, Wrex, we're taking it slow."

"You can't take it too slow," he points out. "Her Pilgrimage has to end soon, and she'll have to go back to her people."

"I know. She's going back to the Flotilla today," I mutter, looking down at the floor.

"And you're just letting her go?" Wrex asks incredulously. "If you're going to be this much of an idiot, I don't think she'll ever come back!" Eh? I look back up at the krogan and raise an eyebrow. "If you really love her, you won't just watch her leave." Man, Wrex is such a romantic! I still have no idea where he gets all this stuff from…but if Urdnot Wrex is telling me I have to try and make her stay, then I'm sure as hell doing it.

"I like how this our first face to face meeting for months, and you're straight back to being my relationship coach," I say sarcastically, but Wrex's expression shows he's not messing around. "You're right. I'm going to ask her to stay after the funeral."

"Good," the krogan nods. "I knew you weren't a total idiot after all." I'm honestly not sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult…so I just nod my head non-committally. Wrex suddenly glances over to where Tali and Garrus are standing…or rather, where they were standing, since the two of them are walking over here. Ah, she must have finally cheered him up a little!

"Be nice, okay," I whisper to him. "Garrus isn't exactly in the best of places."

Wrex gives me a scathing glare. "Thanks. I might not have picked up on that, seeing as we're at a funeral."

Yeah. I deserved that.

Garrus gives Wrex a nod of greeting once he gets close, as Tali does the same, walking over to me and slipping her hand into mine. Wrex gives me a pointed stare as she does that. Nice, man…

"Sorry to hear about Shepard, Garrus," the krogan says, lowering his head slightly, presumably as a mark of respect. "She had a quad on her."

"I can assure you, she didn't," Garrus chuckles slightly, "but thank you, Wrex. It's good to see you again."

"Same here," Tali says. "It's a surprise to see you, though. I thought you were supposed to be ruling your clan, uniting the krogan?"

"I left someone in charge while I was gone," Wrex replies. "Tuchanka might be full of blood-crazed savages, but I've still got people I can trust."

I raise an eyebrow. "I assume it's not Urdnot Wreav watching the throne, then?" Wrex laughs properly at that, drawing a few glares as he quickly quietens himself down.

"I'd still think that was a bad idea drunk on a gallon of ryncol," he finally grunts. "Wreav knows his place, and it's definitely not as my deputy." Ah, brotherly love…though, from seeing Wreav in Mass Effect 2, I don't blame Wrex for a second. That guy is an utter twat. I'm about to ask him about Urdnot in general…when I suddenly feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn around to see Kaidan flash me a little smile, Liara standing next to him. Ah, the whole squad's finally here!

Kaidan's wearing his full Alliance uniform, while Liara has formal asari attire on. I've been so used to her armour and scientist clothes, it's kinda weird seeing her in something different…though not in a bad way. "Good to see the media being kept back," the LT says, nodding at everyone in gretting, as Liara does the same next to him. "First bit of relief we've had in days. Stops anyone blowing up in front of the cameras again, anyway." He gives me a little look, mouth curling upwards in a smile.

"They got that on the news already?" I gasp. Unbelievable… "I regret letting them get to me, but I don't regret anything I said."

"You shouldn't," Liara says. "Everything you said was true, which is more than what I can say about what's being reported. The amount of lies is unlike anything I've ever seen."

"It's probably going to get worse before it gets better, too," Tali points out. Man, things just took a turn for the gloomy…this is probably the last time the whole squad is going to stand together for a long, long while, yet without Shepard…it feels like there's this big gap that we can't plug. "We know the truth, though. That's the important thing."

"I suppose," the asari nods. "It is a shame her body wasn't recovered, though." I almost cringe when she says that…bloody hell, Liara, if only you knew what you're going to face. Say goodbye to innocence…

There's a sudden sound from over by Shepard's grave, and I glance over to see people begin to move towards the seats set out. Ah, the service must be starting…yeah, I can see Joker on crutches making his way there, along with the other guests. I feel a quick flash of anger seeing the Council, but push it down. Grudges don't belong here, not today. And Joker…bloody hell, he'll be taking this almost as bad as Garrus. No doubt he blames himself for Shepard's death. I think giving him his space and time today would probably be wise.

"Shall we?" Kaidan says, a little sadly, and we all follow him towards the grave, and I feel a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach as I draw closer and closer to the grave. All the jesting with Wrex before, watching the vid this morning, just trying to keep my mind off everything…I can't do that anymore. I'm facing the truth, now, that Shepard's dead. That I knew it was coming all along. And that I couldn't stop it.

As I take my seat, for the first time after she died, I feel genuine tears starting to form in my eyes as I finally stop trying to hide them.

##########

The funeral itself was an incredibly sad affair. I mean, that goes without saying, but…well, I hadn't felt that sad since Rebecca dying. Especially after holding it back this long. The truth really hit home as she got lowered into the ground, for all of us. I was in silent tears, and I saw Kaidan and Liara in a similar state near me. I only know now, beginning to walk out, that Tali was crying, as through the whole thing all I could see was her head bowed, the visor covering up any emotions she was releasing. Wrex sat with a frown the entire time, keeping his face stony, but just the slight downwards curl on the edge of his mouth said enough. And Garrus…shit, I feel terrible for him.

Hopefully this will have given him enough closure, but…well, he was sitting there the whole time, talons clasped together and trembling, tears flowing down his face quietly. I mean, whatever composure he'd managed to hold beforehand, he lost it completely. The knowledge it was going to happen probably made the whole thing worse for him, because it sure as hell did with me.

I know saving her would have just made things worse anyway, that this is the only way to ensure things go as they should…but just letting her die like that, in full knowledge that it was going to happen, is an absolutely appalling feeling. It had to be done, for the best of reasons…but a small part of my brain was nagging that it was my fault, and in a way I suppose it was right. Of all the things my secret has forced me to do, this has to be one of the worst.

Before her death, I hadn't expected it to affect me this bad. I don't think Tali or Garrus did either, but here we are. Walking away now, though, I feel like I've had my closure on it. My tears have been shed…and now, we can just wait for her return. From the looks of things, Garrus and Tali seem to be ready to take that stance too. As much as they ever will be, anyway.

The actual service was beautiful in how sad it was, how fitting it felt…but the speeches that went along with it were disgraceful. I'm normally calm and level headed, but it was taking all of my self-control to stay in my seat and just force myself to not react. The Council's speech was an abomination. No other word for it. They acted respectful, but there were some subtle nods to her 'controversial service' that showed their true colours. How they could possibly just stand there and say shit like that is completely beyond me.

At least Anderson did her justice when it came to his turn, describing a hero who gave everything for the galaxy. Hackett didn't do a bad job either, though the most startling thing during his speech was me suddenly realising how much he looks like Zaeed. It's uncanny.

Shepard's mother, Hannah, and father, Daniel, made a speech too. That was the one refreshing bit. She had her fair share of subtle comments about the Council in there, and watching them squirm in their seats was quite satisfying as her parents laid into them as much as they could. But Shepard's mother was one of the most visibly affected people, voice shaking as she started talking about how much Shepard would be missed, and that set me off crying a little bit again too.

For some reason, though, some moron had decided giving Udina a speech was a good idea. I physically couldn't listen to him. His first words were empty crap about her work in a 'challenging situation', so I just switched off after that. Challenging situation…she saved the fucking galaxy! I just don't understand how people can turn on her like this, after everything Shepard did for all of us. Udina and the Council are some of the few people who know the whole truth about the Reapers, about our missions, the sacrifices Shepard had to make and all the good she's done...and they ignore it for political point scoring. With Saren out of the picture, and all kinds of questions coming up in the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel, they needed a scapegoat. Even though anything bad that happened was down to their idiocy in the first place from constantly not believing us.

Shepard was always going to be the logical choice to take the flak, though. I mean, she's dead. It's not like she can defend herself. When Cerberus resurrects her, though...Udina and the Council are gonna be in for one hell of a surprise when she starts talking back. That's the one thought that kept me going through the bullshit speeches, anyway.

At least it's over now, though. Tali, Garrus and I are walking slowly back towards the cemetery gates, and I'm still feeling a bit of moisture in my eyes as we do. But, I've resolved to look forward from now. Her death is in the past. Her return is what's important.

"You okay?" I ask Garrus, nudging him on the arm slightly. He turns to look at me, his mandibles still quivering slightly, but he manages to nod slowly.

"I'll be fine," he manages to say. "It's just…spirits, that just made everything hit home, you know?" Tali and I both nod in agreement. "Two years." He shakes his head. "I know we had to let this happen, but…I just hope it's worth it." He sighs deeply, glancing down at the floor, then back up at me. "I needed that, though. Makes it feel like I can start putting it behind me, anyway."

"That's good," I reply, giving him a reassuring smile. Just as long as he's not wallowing in grief, we'll be fine. This would have been awful if he hadn't known she was coming back…but that's a moot point. "She wouldn't have wanted you hanging onto the past, anyway."

"I know," he nods, and now there's some conviction behind it. Just as he does so, I hear a sudden, female voice from behind us. One that sounds awfully familiar from the funeral…

"Garrus Vakarian?" We all turn around…to see Hannah and Daniel Shepard standing there, looking at us. Oh, shit, this could be awkward. They'll know about Garrus and Shepard, of course…never knew how they took the news, though. Guess we're about to find out.

"Mrs. Shepard, erm, I…" the turian begins to stutter, but doesn't manage more than that before she steps forward and hugs him.

Well. Guess they took the news well, then.

"So this is the man who made my little girl so happy," she says softly, then pulls back and smiles up at an astounded Garrus. Shepard's mum looks so much like her, same eyes and hair colour, except Hannah's is done up in a ponytail rather than her daughter's hanging loose. Daniel, while not looking quite as enthusiastic as his ex-wife, still gives Garrus a little smile. She obviously got her looks from her mother's side…her father has a more rounded jaw, brown hair beginning to grey slightly above his slightly sunken eyes. Both Shepards look exhausted…though after finding out their daughter died, I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't slept at all. I know I sure as hell didn't after Rebecca got taken…"Lara told us all about you before she passed away." Hannah glances over at me and Tali. "You two must be…"

"Ian Shaw," I say, giving her a small smile as I step forward and shake her hand, then Daniel's. "I'm truly, truly sorry for your loss. Lara was a great woman."

"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya," Tali adds, repeating the gesture. "It's terrible what happened. If there's anything we can do-"

Hannah shakes her head sadly. "No, thank you. You served with her, helped her accomplish everything she did, that's what's important. I…we wanted to see Garrus. You obviously meant a lot to her, and…" Hannah's voice kind of trails off towards the end. Ah, it's probably best we leave them to it…

"I'll see you back at the apartment," I say, giving Garrus a quick nod. "Again…I'm sorry." Not just for their loss, but for knowing it was going to happen. Damn it. Tali and I head off towards the exit again, as Garrus and Shepard's parents start talking behind us. They were all the closest to her…and I imagine they've got some questions for Garrus. Nothing unpleasant, but I guess they should still go through it. Not quite how I imagined he'd meet her parents…

"Do you really think he's going to be alright?" Tali asks, once we're out of their earshot.

"Yeah," I nod. "It's Garrus. That guy could go to hell and back and it wouldn't faze him. Once he's over this, starts thinking about her coming back…he'll come around to normality again. What about you?"

She nods quickly. "I'm going to focus on the future. Shepard's gone for now, but she'll come back eventually. I can look at finishing my Pilgrimage, actually becoming a part of the Flotilla…" Oh, this is probably a good time to bring up my idea!

"Yeah…" I say, a little half-heartedly, then muster up a smile and slip her hand into mine. "Tali, there's something-"

"Shaw!" a flanging, familiar voice shouts from behind me. A turian I know far, far too well, that isn't Garrus.

Seriously? I turn around, and...

Godammit Pallin, not now! Why is he even here? "Ian Shaw! We need to talk!"

Tali folds her arms, watching the Executor jog towards us. "Isn't that your old boss?"

"Yep," I sigh. "I have no idea what he wants to talk about, though. This might take a little while…"

"It's alright," she says calmly. "I'll need to go to the spaceport to buy tickets anyway, so I can just wait for you there. I'll take a Rapid Transit over. Is that okay?"

Oh, for fuck's sake, Pallin! Now I'm cutting it _way _too fine…what is it with me and being interrupted today? Still, I don't want to bore Tali by just making her stand here… "Alright," I nod, albeit a little reluctantly. "Just don't leave before I get there, okay? I've got something I want to talk to you about."

"Oh, right," Tali says, sounding a little surprised. Wait until I actually tell you it, then you'll be even more shocked. "I'll be waiting, then." With that, she gives my arm a quick squeeze and heads off towards the gates, as Pallin finally reaches me. Oh, here we go…

"I didn't expect to see you here, Pallin."

"Ian," he says, giving me the same look as always. Pretty much emotionless, bordering on slight disapproval. Ah, just like old times. "Most senior officials were invited, and I thought it would be…proper, to attend. I might not like Spectres, but Shepard's sacrifice should be marked accordingly." Not exactly the most emotional reason…but it's better than nothing, I suppose. "I was actually hoping to run into you here."

"Yeah. I kind of assumed that much when you started shouting my name," I mutter, still a little annoyed he ruined my moment with Tali. "What's up?"

The Executor glances over at Tali's back receding into the distance, the look on his face showing he's finally put two and two together. A wee bit too late… "You obviously want to get somewhere, and I've never been one for pointless exposition anyway, so I'll get straight to the point," he nods, then pauses slightly. "Actually, where's Vakarian?"

"I can pass on a message," I say impatiently. "What can I help you with, sir?"

"I have a proposition for you," he replies, fixing me with his gaze. Still got those bomb facial markings… "A job offer, actually. For both you and Vakarian. I assume you aren't staying on with the Alliance, either of you, and the offer I made a few months back still stands. Your old positions are still available, if you're interested."

Oh, wow. I mean, Garrus and I planned on going back to C-Sec…but I didn't expect Pallin to be the one coming to us. Especially not so soon. And doing it here is a little disrespectful. "You thought Shepard's funeral would be the best time to bring this up?"

"I simply thought you would be interested," Pallin says, sounding a little cross at me. For some reason, despite the fact he's not technically my boss at the moment, I still feel intimidated slightly. He's far too good at this. "I can't see either of you wanting to give it all up, not if all the stories I've heard about Shepard's investigation into Saren are true. You obviously want to help people, otherwise you wouldn't have gone with her, and you can do that at C-Sec. Besides, you two did do a good job before you left. It would be…" he flexes his mandibles, searching for the word, "advantageous to all of us, if you were to return."

He has got a point, actually. If I'm going to spend two years doing something, detective work and helping the Citadel get back on its feet is quite good. As much as the bureaucracy is annoying, we did manage to help people out a lot before we left to pursue Saren…though something tells me there's going to be a whole jungle of red tape out there after the geth attack. "I'd definitely be interested," I admit. "Pretty sure Garrus would be too. But with the media attention on us at the moment, just jumping back into our detective roles might not be the best idea."

"Of course," the Executor nods. "My thoughts exactly. I was going to propose you take a month to think about it, wait for all this to die down, as it inevitably will. But since you already seem to have a made your mind up…" A rare smile slips onto Pallin's face for a fraction of a second. I bet he knew I'd say yes, the sly bastard… "I suggest you simply wait for all this to blow over."

"Do you actually reckon it will?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "They're pretty rabid about this story and all-"

"I've been in C-Sec and lived on this station for thirty years," Pallin says gruffly. "Any story, no matter how big it seems, gets old eventually. All this attention on you will have died down in a month's time. That should give you enough time to read up on C-Sec regulations, then come back to work." Read up on C-Sec regulations…son of a bitch, that was cheap. I do chuckle slightly, though, as does Pallin. He obviously remembers our reputation, but at least he's making light of it. For now, anyway. He probably won't be laughing if we land him with another destroyed spaceport.

"I'll be sure to do that," I nod, smiling slightly. "Thanks for the offer, Pallin. I'll talk to Garrus about it…but I'm pretty sure we'll both want to come back. Assuming we'll be partners again."

"Of course. Spirits forbid anyone try to separate you two," the Executor mutters, shaking his head. "My office will be in touch later. You can give me a formal decision then." Looks like he's giving me an out…and I need to set off after Tali. Good man.

"Will do," I say, reaching forward and shaking his talon. "Nice seeing you again, Executor."

"Likewise," the turian replies, returning the gesture, and I start to turn around to walk away. Pallin gently clears his throat, making me swivel around again. What now… "And, Ian…I'm sorry about what happened to Shepard. You obviously knew her well."

I stand for a couple of seconds, a little surprised. For some reason, I wasn't expecting that from Pallin…my memories from the first two years of C-Sec are kind of selective, though, so part of me seems to still assume he's some kind of demon in turian guise. "Thanks," I say simply, giving him a slight nod of my head. Pallin does likewise, then strolls back from where he came towards some other turian officials. He really isn't a bad guy…gets angry quick, but he mostly means well.

Though I somehow doubt I'll be thinking such nice things about him once we're back at C-Sec. Ah well. Tali's probably had time to get the Rapid Transit…and I have no idea when that shuttle leaves. Shit, I can't hang about here, then.

And so, I break into a power-walk towards the nearest Rapid Transit, running through what to say to her as I go.

##############

It doesn't take long to spot Tali, as I jog into the spaceport, scanning the crowd frantically for her familiar visor and exo-suit. The place is absolutely packed with people from all species, the loud of hubbub of conversation and people on the move filling the air, along with the aroma from various food stalls and shops that litter the terminal. Businessmen, couples, entire families checking shuttle times and destination, booking flights…but Tali still somehow stands out like a beacon, body language suggesting she's nervous slightly as she glances around. The station she's at actually has a shuttle in it…shit, that must be hers! She'd never have left without me, but I don't want to make her worry that I'm not going to show up or something. The wait at the Rapid Transit was so damn long, then this old turian had to fumble around to his credit chit…I knew I should've just ran! Though better late than never…

"Tali!" I call over to her, making may through the crowds as best as I can, and I see her head snap towards my direction, glancing around before she finally catches my eye, and her whole body language loses its tension straight away. Good to see you too…

"I started to think you weren't coming," she says, sounding embarrassed as I finally reach her. "There's another shuttle, but it's not for hours after this one, so it's good you showed up when you did."

"Yeah," I nod, smiling slightly and looking at her. Shit, how am I gonna ask this…

"This is it, then," Tali suddenly mutters quietly, taking a step closer to me and placing a hand around my arm. "For two years. Keelah…it's been an amazing few months, Ian. I wouldn't have wanted to spend them any other way, with you…and now we've got our duties to attend to." She bows her head slightly. "With Shepard gone. I can finally return to the Flotilla, though…it's a shame you can't come with me."

Yep. Now or never. With her saying something like that, I have to ask.

"Then stay with me, Tali," I say, quietly and slowly, putting both her hands into mind and looking into her eyes, the pinpricks of light behind the purple visor. "Don't go back to the Flotilla. Not yet, anyway." Tali just stares at me for a few seconds, and while I've become pretty good at reading her mood recently, it's hard to tell what she's exactly thinking. Surprise, I assume.

"Ian," she finally replies. "That can't work. With the timeline and everything-"

I gently rub her suit material, and smile at her. To be fair, I had those exact same concerns initially… "Tali, I know this is sudden, and…well, it's not what we planned, but I've thought about it. You don't need to go back, at least not for a long while yet. It shouldn't cause anything bad to happen in the timeline, and…and we can stay together." It's true, as well…if she can't send geth parts home, Rael'll probably be fine anyway. And we can still take steps to ensure his safety, without Tali having to go back. It's perfect!

I can feel Tali rubbing my hands back too…but there's not much in it, energy, the kind of attention she would normally give something even that small. I try and look into her eyes beneath the mask, then pull her in gently for a hug. The response I get back is barely noticeable. What the hell…

"That's, uh…not the hug I was expecting," I say quietly, looking back into her eyes again, and they're not showing their usual kind of glow. What's up with her? Is it something I said, something I did?

"Ian, there's a whole Flotilla of quarians who expect to see me back there," she suddenly says, bringing me back down to earth. "To make me into one of our society. Think about it, Ian, me, taking on my ship name, living the life I was supposed to, doing things that really matter!"

I shake my head. "It's not that simple, Tali. People on the Flotilla, like Daro'Xen…people have got their own agendas. You might not working for the right thing all the time, all the backroom politics…but this," I continue firmly, tightening my grip on her hands, "this is simple. This is a real life." I faintly hear the conductor of the shuttle announce the doors are closing. Shit, now or never… "This is it, Tali. Are you coming?"

She shifts uncertainly, looking over at the shuttle, back to me…and then, slowly, painstakingly slowly, I start to feel her grip loosen on my hands. "I can't, Ian," she whispers. "I'm sorry. But my people need me. And the risk of change, after everything you've told me…I just can't."

I gawp at her slightly. No, this can't be happening! "What happened to you being selfish? Just this once? I thought that's what you wanted? You said it would be good if I could come to the Flotilla with you! And the change can work, Tali, I- "

"There's a big difference between you coming with me to the Flotilla, and me staying here with you, Ian," she says quietly. "You know that. You're not thinking straight, about what this could change…and I need to do this. We'll be together in two years. Just wait." She puts one finger up to my lips, and just shakes her head sadly. "I have to go back, Ian. Now. I'm sorry." With that, she completely lets go of me, and I feel my arms swing to the floor as I just watch her go through into the shuttle, unable to talk, unable to move. I catch a glimpse of her visor turning to look at me…then the doors close and it pulls away.

She's gone. She chose the Flotilla over me, and now for two years, she's gone. I can't truly blame her…but I thought she would have chosen us. I thought we were closer than her bond to her own society…and of course, I was wrong. God, I'm a fucking idiot...

I just stand in the port for a few seconds, running a hand through my hair and staring out into the empty space, then slowly turn and walk away, back into the crowd, muttering one last thing as I go.

"I'm sorry too."

**A/N: D'awwwww.**** That whole chapter was really hard to write, given the emotional content and all, so hopefully it turned out good. These chapters are getting longer and longer...9000 words isn't going to be normal, hahaha, I just had a lot of stuff to cover here.**

**Well, that's Tali gone from**** Ian's life now, and obviously there's a bit of disappointment/possible resentment there. But, with the funeral over and Shepard's death finally dealt with, it's time to look to the future and C-Sec! But obviously something's got to push Garrus to Omega…what, I hear you asking? Well, find out next chapter!**

**Also, I should probably point out I'm taking a more detailed approach to plot this time around, rather than hurling Ian and Garrus into a combat situation quickly. Plot build-up is important, and I kinda want it to be a wee bit more sophisticated then just explosions all the time. (Though obviously explosions are a key part of any story, and they'll be here). Just to let you know why I'm not hurtling this to Omega straight away.**

**41 reviews last chapter? That is absolutely insane! ****I can't tell you how much I appreciate it, it's incredibly nice to come back to, so thank you all for that, along with the favs and story alerts. It's inspirational, you guys/girls rule.**

**Until next time…byebye.**

_**Oddly fitting credits song: I Blame Hollywood - Olly Murs**_


	3. Ian vs The Catalyst

Chapter 3

The Killers: Glamorous Indie Rock and Roll

**A/N: Hey. So, there's going to be another time jump this chapter, six months into the future. This is just so we can get to what makes Garrus finally decide to leave…the story is supposed to be set on Omega, after all, and we've still got stuff to deal with before then. Just if you're wondering about where all the time at C-Sec has gone.**

**Also, in this first section…if there's parts where you don't understand what Ian and Garrus are talking about, that's the point.**

**Chapter, go!**

#######

**October 16th, 2185  
8:27pm, Omega time  
Archangel's hideout**

"You know," I say, leaning back against the balcony wall as there's a lull in the shooting. "I think Tali leaving might be the reason I ended up here. I know I was reluctant to come at first, but…with nothing to anchor me onto the Citadel, I didn't really have anything to lose."

"You're here because you didn't have anything to lose?" Garrus chuckles, raising his brow plates as he slumps down next to me, slowly reloading his rifle. "I'm flattered. And here I was thinking it was loyalty or something."

Sitting down is making my eyes feel kinda heavy, actually…shit, this is _not _a good time to be feeling tired. I shake my head quickly to clear my head, fully aware we're out of stims. I hate the damn things, anyway. Great for a temporary boost, but the comedown after is terrible. "Loyalty might have played a role," I shrug. "But it's not like C-Sec was something for me to hold onto, was it?"

"No," he nods. "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't come here when I did. Not sure why you stayed on for that extra month."

"Because I wasn't sure what I was doing," I reply, drawing my pistol and checking its heat sink. Can't be too careful… "I thought maybe C-Sec was supposed to be my place." I glance around the house, and into the expanse of Omega over the balcony. "That turned out great, didn't it?"

"At least we didn't have to worry about paperwork here," Garrus points out. "It was getting in the way of us saving lives back on the Citadel." He's right…the six months we spent back at C-Sec were nothing like those first two years we'd had. I mean, not only was a lot of the Citadel a total wreck, but security measures had been hopped up to the extreme in case of geth infiltration. I'd thought the paperwork was bad before…but there was form to fill out for every little thing we did. Taking risks was outright forbidden, rather than frowned upon…which kinda leads into how Garrus left.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," I mutter. "At least paperwork wasn't trying to kill me. There were rules on the Citadel…we're probably in this situation because they don't exist here."

Garrus shakes his head slightly. "You know exactly why we're in this situation." Ah, I don't think he's _completely _over it just yet…but at least he understands what I had to do. I'll take a bit of resentment over full-blown relationship meltdown…

"Yeah, true," I nod slowly. "I'm sorry about it, Garrus. Seriously. I didn't mean for things to go like this. I couldn't have known-"

"I know," he sighs. "Forget about it." There's a sudden sound of shouts from across the bridge, and I look over at Garrus, raising an eyebrow.

"Showtime?"

"Looks like it," he grunts, heaving himself up onto one knee and raising his rifle, leaning it on the balcony rail, as I grab mine and follow suit. It's almost ironic, talking about C-Sec, and both of us being in this position, ready to take a shot. Exactly like on the day Garrus finally decided to leave for this hell-hole…

I was expecting it to be something related to a case we were on, or Pallin pushing him over the line…but you can never fully guess what fate has in store for you. A random event one day, something you never saw coming, and bam. Your life's been changed for ever.

##########

**April 16th, 2184  
5:38pm, Citadel time  
C-Sec Headquarters**

Oh, bloody hell, that's a lot of ticky boxes. Far, far too many. Changing form 17b for field investigation was always going to be controversial, but now it's actually here…I'm clueless. Quite what was wrong with the old 17b is beyond me, except for the fact it was an inherent waste of time, but now this new one makes an already irritating task downright anger inducing. Every single time Garrus and I go out of the office to track down a lead, we have to fill one of these out.

It starts of simple, filling in name and rank…then asking questions like the purpose of our visit. Are we 'making an arrest', 'discharging a firearm', 'conducting an interrogation', 'conducting a premises search'… I mean, what idiot wrote this? Most of the time on this job, you don't know what's going to happen until it actually does! Am I supposed to just take a random guess, or tick every box just to be safe? Then again, if I tick every box, it makes it look like I'll be kicking someone's door down, start simultaneously searching them and their home/place of work, whilst firing my gun randomly into the air and yelling questions at them. Which could call my professional conduct into question. Jesus Christ…

"Garrus!" I shout over to his desk, and the turian's head pops up from behind the mountain of Tupari sports drink on his desk, stacked next to a total mess of forms. "Are you finding this as hard as I am?"

"That would depend on whether or not you can answer this question," he says, taking a mock-thoughtful pose and looking at me. "Is this visit of importance to an ongoing investigation?"

"No, I just like bothering people during my work hours for shits and giggles," I shoot back sarcastically, making Garrus chuckle slightly. "Is that a serious question? If we're making an inquiry, of course it's going to be bloody important!"

The turian shakes his head slightly, grabbing one of the bottles that hasn't been emptied and taking a quick swig. "You shouldn't mock these, Ian. This kind of questioning is our frontline of defence against geth infiltration."

"That would be funny if it wasn't true," I groan, deciding to just tick the boxes about asking questions and searching the premises. I mean, if the guy we're asking gives us the wrong answers to whatever we ask him, the first thing is going to lead to the other. I doubt I'll be shooting anyone today anyway, except whoever wrote this piece of crap. "Well, it's been half an hour, and I finally think I'm happy with all my answers. How about yourself?"

"Just let me copy what you've written," Garrus sighs, as I step over and hand him my form. As he starts scribbling stuff down, I lean against the side of his desk, and glance around the office.

CID was never exactly spotless, but most detectives used to have fairly clean desks, some manner of filing system, and you actually see the surface of their desk underneath all the work we had. Of course, this was before the Battle of the Citadel. Back then, having ten detectives in the office at once would have been unheard of.

Unfortunately, things have changed a wee bit.

There's datapads strewn all over the place, along with paper, precariously balanced coffee mugs, and detectives at their desks, talking on phones and typing away on terminals. If destroying half the Citadel wasn't enough, Sovereign's managed to screw us over from the dead by ensuring an onslaught of red tape.

It's bad. I mean, really bad. Everything we do has to be justified in writing somewhere, and there's an almost zero tolerance approach on people who skip paperwork or don't fill it out seriously, which the vast majority of the office learned the hard way when the whole scheme was launched, Garrus and I included. I don't think Pallin is personally that bothered…but there's obviously pressure on him from higher up, because he's made it perfectly clear that paperwork and bureaucracy is serious business. Of course, it's the Council's fault, the bastards.

At least the media attention on us has died, though, like Pallin predicted. They held onto the story for about three weeks, asking their questions and generally being a pain, but Garrus and I hung about in the apartment most of the time and didn't co-operate with whatever questions they asked when we had to go out. Eventually, they must have worked out they weren't getting anywhere with us, and the story was starting to get old, so the number of reporters stationed outside the apartment building got smaller and smaller until they disappeared all together.

After that, it was back to C-Sec. It's not been a terrible few months working here…we've done the usual, smuggling prevention, generally making sure the black market keeps on their toes. The necessary research has also been carried out to switch from overheating to heat sinks, which suits me perfectly fine. Now I can fire my pistol as fast as I want, and not wait for ages for it to cool down. Some people moan about it...but I can eject and put a new sink into my pistol in about a second. The only downside; reloading a pistol in each hand is a pain in the ass, though I'm only allowed the one handgun at C-Sec, so that's not a huge issue.

But the bureaucratic crap is definitely getting to Garrus. He didn't like it _before _the Battle of the Citadel, and the level it's at now is seriously pissing him off. Not enough to send him off to Omega yet, though. It's got to be drawing close, mind. He stayed on at C-Sec for a few months before leaving in game…but it's been a few months, and still nothing. Whatever it is, then, I imagine it'll be coming soon. Maybe Pallin will make him flip out, or the bureaucracy will just make him snap, get up and leave. I don't know.

I know I'm not going with him. After everything Tali said before she left…about me not thinking straight, about not interfering…I dunno, maybe she was right. I'm still a little bit pissed she left, to be honest, but Omega is something that moulds Garrus's character greatly. Getting involved in that could be…unwise. Operating on the right side of the law probably suits me better, anyway. Even with this bullshit paperwork.

"We don't need to take a cruiser, do we?" Garrus suddenly says, eyes widening slightly. Oh God, he's got a point…taking a cruiser now requires _another _form, that's going to take a good fifteen minutes to fill out. Previously, the cruiser was really useful…but with the time it takes to actually get one these days, it's becoming quicker to walk a lot of the time.

"It's about a twenty minute journey to the weapon vendor," I mutter, running through the directions in my mind. "Nah, we'll just walk it. Quicker in the long run." Garrus breathes a slight sigh of relief, finishing up his form and handing mine back to me. Finally, we can actually do real police work and stuff! Just gotta post these on the way out.

Garrus and I simultaneously walk through the CID double doors, and I give a Morgan Patterson a quick nod on the way out. There's been a bit of weapons smuggling going on that Garrus and I are looking into…and hopefully this guy we're going to see is gonna be able to help us out. Given Garrus's mood, I sure as hell hope for his sake he can.

##########

"Look, it's blatantly obvious you're involved in illegal weapons," I sigh to the human male, as I survey what I can see of his stock room from behind the shop counter. "If you give us information on where you got them from, and turn over your illegal stock to C-Sec, we _might _not come down so harsh on you. If you don't co-operate, I'll arrest your ass, take you back, find out the information anyway, take the guns and throw you in jail. I'll let you mull that decision over."

Man, this bloke is a total amateur. Garrus and I have seen hundreds like him on the Citadel, but criminals never cease to amaze me. The guy immediately freaks out upon seeing C-Sec, denies everything before we even ask about illegal weapons. He also must be a lawyer in his spare time, since he's rattled off a list of things we apparently can't do, like searching his stock and stuff like that. He's completely wrong, of course, we can absolutely do that, but it's funny letting him rant.

"I dunno what you're talkin' about," he says stubbornly, giving me and Garrus a scowl. "I ain't involved in no illegal weapons or shit." He gives Garrus a pointed glare. "You fuckin' turians are racist, always blaming the humans around here!"

I roll my eyes. This guy is a class act, I'll give him that much. "Mate, I'm human, and I'm blaming you too. Look," I say, pointing back into the store room at a shotgun sticking out from a pile of boxes. "You're not licensed to sell that. No store on the Citadel is. It's a Batarian State Arms weapon, which is obviously illegal in Council space. I can tell just by looking at it, you moron."

"Batarian weapons are illegal in Council space?" the man asks, doing his best to look surprised. God, how fucking stupid is he?

"BSA weapons are produced by a nationalised batarian institution, infamous for waste and corruption," Garrus says coldly. "Its weapons and their production are unethical, and as such the Council has made their weapons illegal to import or sell. Which means…"

"You're in the shit," I finish for him, smiling sarcastically at the vendor. "So, like I said, you can come with me down to the station and I'll see how long we can get you behind bars for, or you let us take the weapons now and give us what we want. Where'd you get them?" I seriously hope he doesn't make us arrest him…because I didn't tick that box on the form, so it's gonna look bad if we come back with a criminal in tow. Bloody hell…

The merchant looks between Garrus and I, then sighs. "Fuck," he mutters. "Fine, you win. My supplier was a batarian, met him in the lower wards a while back. Said he had some weapons he wanted to get off his hands, said he could do it cheap. And this stuff…" the merchant mimes hefting a shotgun, then firing with enormous recoil, "would stop a krogan in his tracks."

I shake my head disdainfully. "As interesting as that is, who was this batarian?"

"I dunno," the human shrugs. Really? _Really?_ "Didn't gimme a name. Just had the weapons, I bought 'em, done deal. He was wearing blue armour."

"Brilliant," I say sardonically. "That really narrows it down. Next you'll be telling me he had four eyes as well."

The man's eyes widen slightly. "That's true!" Oh my God…

"If he's telling the truth, that batarian is going to be long gone by now," Garrus mutters in my ear. "We'll call uniform in, get them to take the stock."

"Alright," I nod. "Right, we'll be taking any stock you have, and your license to sell firearms. Selling BSA stuff…you'll be looking at a good ban there. You might even have your license revoked all together."

The man just gawps at me. "Eh? I thought you said you weren't gonna arrest me!"

"You're right, sir, I'm not," I grin, giving him a pat on the arm. "Can't speak for him, though." I point over at Garrus. "You wanna cuff him?"

"It'd be my pleasure," Garrus chuckles. I give him a quick nod, then step towards the front of the store to call some regular officers in to clear up here. Presumably Garrus has started to handcuff him, because of the torrent of swear words I hear from behind me…

Right, let's see if anyone's at dispatch. It takes a few seconds for the connection to be made, then a friendly female voice greets me. "C-Sec dispatch."

"Hey, it's Detective Shaw, badge number…" I glance down at my warrant badge. You'd think I'd have remembered it by now, but there you go. "2941337. Need some uniform down here, to pick up illegal stock and one suspect. Have you got a fix on my location?"

There's a slight pause on the end of the line, then the voice flares up again. "Roger that, officers are en-route. ETA five minutes."

"Cheers," I smile slightly. Well, at least that went quite smooth…dispatch can fill out the paperwork rather than me. Though, since I called them in, I'm probably gonna have to sign off on it. Ah well. "Have a nice day."

"You too, detective," the voice replies, then the line goes dead. Well, at least she was nice. Friendly staff are always good.

"Garrus!" I shout across, "their ETA's five minutes!" I walk along to the counter and vault over it, heading into the store-room. Garrus had handcuffed the merchant to one of the shelves, picking through the stock he's got. I've never really seen BSA weapons, actually. Apparently you could only get them in Mass Effect 1 through console hacks…but I've seen the record that company has. If it had been in game, buying BSA goods should have got you a shit ton of Renegade points.

"I can't believe how dumb this guy was," Garrus says incredulously. "This stuff is serious contraband, and he's just got it on the shelves…"

"I'm sitting right here, ya know!" the guy complains, but we both ignore him.

"Well, we're never gonna find that batarian with this kind of lead," I mutter. "He must keep doing this, popping back and forwards onto the Citadel, selling before we can get a fix on his location. Still, at least we got something." I nod over at the weapons. "It's not a bad haul, that's for su-"

There's a sudden frantic beeping from both our omni-tools, and I glance over at Garrus. We have different tones set for different types of messages…and both are playing the 'urgent' tone. Which only comes in from Pallin, or serious crimes dispatch. Ah, shit…I accept the call, and a frantic voice blares into my ear.

"We've got a hostage situation in the Wards!" What the fuck? I see Garrus curse under his breath across from me. Where the hell did this come from? "Shop selling medical supplies, around twenty customers still in it. Biotic entered the shop, locked down the entrances, and he's threatening to detonate himself. Repeat, a medical supplies store in the Wards, location is being sent to omni-tools now. Any nearby units, please respond!"

Garrus is on the mic before I can say anything, and I glance down at the location. It's only a few minutes away if we run, and we'll definitely be doing that… "Roger that, dispatch. We're on our way." Both of us terminate the call, and the turian looks over at me. "Shit. We need to move."

"You don't need to tell me," I nod, then glance over at the merchant. "Stay here. Someone will come and pick you up eventually."

"It's not like I'm going anywhere," he mutters, jangling the handcuffs for effect as Garrus and I sprint out of the room, and through the main doors of the shop, hurtling towards the hostage location.

This can't be good.

##########

"C-Sec!" I yell, hurtling around a corner and entering the long street which the medical store is located on. Too bad the whole thing's about two hundred metres long…and it's full of people, some passing by, some standing around the C-Sec cordon and trying to peek in. Obnoxious bastards…it's not a damn show! My shout sends people moving to the side of the street, Garrus running level with me, warrant badge held in an outstretched talon. It's been a good four minute dash…and my breath is ragged as I catch sight of a C-Sec officer outside the shop, trying to make the spectators move on. At least there's not been a detonation yet…

I slide to a halt in front of the crowd, pulling out my own badge and pushing towards the police line as Garrus follows suit. Hostage situation…I'm half-expecting to see Shepard barge into here and take charge of the situation. This is her kind of thing, not mine…

"Detectives!" one of the officers says, a turian, walking over to us as we move through the holographic police line and in front of the shop. Garrus quickly shakes his outstretched talon, and I do the same. Presumably this is the guy in charge… "Raiku Ternam."

"I'm Garrus, that's Ian," Garrus says, immediately taking charge of the situation. Good man. "What's going on, Raiku?"

"I don't know all the details myself," the turian replies grimly. "From what we've been able to put together ourselves, biotic, human male, walked into the store about…fifteen, twenty minutes ago. Locked all the customers inside, holding one as a human shield with a pistol to her head, and he's threatening to detonate if we try and get in or anyone tries to leave."

Shit. "Have we got a motive?" I ask. "He's gotta have a reason, right?"

"We've got negotiators talking to him through the store's comm. line," Raiku explains. "He's an L2 biotic, and they've…well, been getting screwed over recently. There's been a big political debate about whether or not they should be given reparations because of the damage the implants can do, and a vote's going to be taken on it soon, but it looks like it's not going to turn out in their favour."

"Are you serious?" Garrus gawps. "Doing something like this isn't going to win them support! People will think biotics are terrorists!"

"I'm not saying he's sane," Raiku shakes his head. "Far from it. But that's his motive, anyway. The negotiators are having a hard time, and he's not backing down."

Bollocks. If he's not going to back down, then we're just counting down the minutes until he finally decides to blow up. Actually, there's something bothering me there… "Everyone keeps saying he's going to detonate," I say. "I mean, how did he get a bomb here? Security measures are insanely tight!"

"No, he's going to literally detonate himself," Raiku replies. Eh? "Release element zero from himself in an explosion. It'll kill him, but the blast will take out anyone in that shop, too. As well as the roof." I never realised biotics could do that, Jesus…then again, why would they want to?

"We need to try and find a way to pacify him," Garrus mutters, looking at the exterior of the shop. I can practically see the tactical gears in his mind whirring away…then his eyes suddenly light up. "This store has a glass roof."

"Yeah, but if he sees anyone climb up top, he'll blow this place sky fucking high," Raiku says. "We can hardly scale the building!"

Garrus shakes his head, looking impatient now. "I didn't say that. But there's maintenance catwalks up there," he says, pointing towards the roof. And, of course, he's right. Just like Thane's loyalty mission… "We can get up there, find an angle, and take him down with a sniper shot. You've got assault weapons here, right?" There's some fully armed C-Sec officers standing around, in case for some reason we decided to breach in or something…which means there'll be sniper rifles going spare.

"Sure…" the other turian mutters, sounding a little unsure. "Is this such a good idea? If he sees someone with a gun up there, he'll blow."

"We don't have a choice," I point out. "He's crazy, and we've got nothing to negotiate with. He isn't trying to work out a deal now, he's just trying to pluck up the courage to do it. We need to stop him before then." I'm getting a really bad feeling about this…but there's not anything else we can really do here. I've shot a krogan's eye about before, so at least I've got that as something of a comfort.

Raiku looks torn for a few seconds, then finally nods his head slowly. "Alright. Get your weapons, and get up there. No shooting unless you're _absolutely _certain you have a shot, and I still need to clear this with the Executor. But take preliminary positions, and keep hidden."

"Will do," I nod. I've been keeping practice up in the shooting range these past few months, as has Garrus…but I haven't shot at a live target for a while. And not under this kind of pressure. But my accuracy hasn't waned any, so I should be able to do this. If I can get an angle. Garrus and I both jog over to the weapons stack brought along, picking out two sniper rifles, each of us slamming a heat sink into our weapon. They replaced overheating with heat sinks now…honestly, I prefer reloading, so it works quite well for me. Not that we'll be taking more than one shot here.

"There's two entrances from this street to the catwalks," Garrus says, nudging me on the shoulder and bringing my attention from the sniper rifle onto his omni-tool, showing a map of the immediate area. You take the one in the east, I'll take the north one, see if you can get a line of sight. Keep low, alright?"

"Got it." I heft the rifle, slinging the stock over the crook of my right arm, and glance over at Garrus. Here goes nothing…and I thought it was going to be a regular day. Just my fucking luck. "Good hunting." Garrus gives me a nod, then we split, jogging towards our relevant access points.

I can hear my heartbeat faintly as I run, taking the steps up onto the metal walkway two at a time, anxiety and heightened adrenaline amplifying the sound of my feet on the surface. I surface a good fifty metres or so from the store…with no angle whatsoever. Shit, need to get closer.

I duck down, balancing lightly on the balls of my feet, and creep forward, keeping to the shadows as best I can. L2 biotic…I do feel for their cause, wanting the reparations (especially through knowing Kaidan), but this is going to be a serious blow to their cause regardless of how this turns out. Godammit…one man running years of effort.

It's not about the politics, though. He's got a store full of civilians there, and whatever his political views, he needs to be stopped. A hostage situation like this…I've been through some crazy shit at C-Sec, sure, but it's mostly been Garrus and I in danger. Not this. With everything hanging by a thread.

About twenty metres from the shop now. Fuck, this side of the walkway isn't going to get me anywhere. I can see the guy, but he's got the human shield at the perfect fucking angle to block my shot. I go prone, glancing around to see if I can catch sight of Garrus. It's down to him now…and then I catch sight of the turian, dark blue and black armour blending in almost perfectly, long barrel of the sniper resting on the catwalk railing. Does that mean-

"_I think I've got a shot," _I hear him breathe quietly through my earpiece. My heart rate spikes suddenly when he says that, previously faint noise becoming a dramatic thumping as I glance over at him, then back at the shop. He's got an angle there…but it's facing the front of the biotic, so the human shield is still an issue. Fucking hell…

"Garrus, are you absolutely positive here?" I ask, barely even daring to breath as I watch him, crouched stock still like a hawk, mandibles fluttering slightly as he breathes in and out, the controlled breaths of a sniper.

"_I'm sure," _comes the cold, emotionless reply. We're speaking on an open C-Sec channel, so I know what he's going to ask next… "_Repeat, I have a shot. Permission to engage?" _I bring my scope up to my eyes and look inside the shop…I can see the biotic talking, but he's got his eyes shut, and he's grimacing slightly. I think he's trying to build up the willpower to go through with it…

Fifteen seconds. Still no reply. "_C-Sec, do you read me?_" Garrus asks, beginning to sound like he's losing his cool. I know I am… "_Permission to engage?" _Another five seconds. "_C-Sec, if you do not respond, I'm taking-"_

"_Wait, Vakarian," _a voice finally replies. An all too familiar one. Raiku must have finally contacted Pallin… "_You do not have permission."_

"_What?" _I can't see Garrus's expression, but the tone of voice lets me imagine it. Eyes widened, mandibles stretched out, general fury across his face. _"I can end this here, Pallin! Let me take the damn shot!"_

"_We can't risk it," _the Executor replies stubbornly. _"There's too much at stake. We're negotiating with him, maybe we can talk him dow-"_

I can see Garrus's talons tightening on the rifle as he shoots back his reply. _"The negotiations aren't going to work! He's crazy!"_

"_I'm giving you a direct order here, Vakarian!" _Pallin shouts down the mic. _"We need to talk to people on the ground, come to a decision about whether or not this is the best course of action!"_

"_This is the only course of action!" _Garrus hisses back. "_Damn it Pallin, we don't have time for bureaucracy!"_

"_And I'm not going to let twenty hostages get killed on the whim of some headstrong detective!"_

"_If we don't act now, they'll die anyway!"_

"_Do NOT open fire, Vakarian!"_

I lift up my scope again, heart in my mouth as I look through. The biotic has his eyes open now…it looks like he's yelling something! There's a furious look on his face…I glance down through the catwalk, and the sight that hits me makes my stomach lurch in panic.

The C-Sec officers outside the building are physically shoving the civilians out the way, and I can see the negotiators running back. No no no! I bring the scope up to my eye again…and see the biotic flared up blue, the aura around him getting progressively larger and deeper coloured.

SHIT.

"Garrus!" I yell, throwing all subtlety to the wind in panic. "Shoot him! He's gonna deto-"

I never get to finish the sentence, as an enormous blue pulse erupts from the building, blasting the glass outwards and tearing the building apart, debris and rubble hurtling into the air to a chorus of screams from everyone assembled below, the whole world around us shaking. The blast knocks the wind out of me, and I'm hurled into the railing with a gasp of pain, the support beams groaning as it rocks unsteadily beneath my winded form.

I struggle for a few seconds, then manage to get in shallow breaths, shuddering in shock. He detonated.

No. That can't have happened…I mean, there were twenty people in there. They couldn't have all just been blown up like that…

As the air rushes back into my lungs, the world suddenly becomes clearer, and I hear the wail of sirens from the distance, the screams of people below, the rubble tumbling to the floor as the previously intact building lies completely and utterly destroyed. And the reality hits.

We didn't stop him. I just saw twenty people's lives snuffed out in front of my eyes, and I couldn't do anything about it.

Then, the radio flares up again.

"_Oh my God…are there any survivors? Someone, do a thermal scan!"_

"_We've got injuries in the crowd…"_

"_There's an officer down over here!"_

"_Shit, get Executor Pallin on the line!"_

"_Spirits, no…"_

"_The thermal scan is blank. No-one could have survived that..."_

All I can do is just stare at the wreckage, then at the gun next to me, lying there useless, before I drop my head and start to sob gently.

**A/N: I'm aware Ian has been getting it really, really shit these past few chapters…this is the last one, I swear.**

**So, no prizes for guessing what this is going to lead to. The good news is, we'll be getting to Omega very, very shortly…and things are gonna start getting good. This is probably going to be more like the typical chapter length, too. The first two were fluke, honestly, hahaha.**

**Whaaaaa? 81 reviews in two chapters? Thank you. Really, that means a hell of a lot to me. Can we get to 100 by Chapter 3? Here's hoping…**

**Thanks for reading! See you next time!**


	4. Ian vs The Departure

Chapter 4

Feeder: Miss You

"What the FUCK were you thinking!" Garrus yells as we crash through the door into the C-Sec lobby, and a sudden quiet descends upon the place as Garrus and I face down Executor Pallin, absolute fury in Garrus's eyes. He doesn't swear at people often, but that means there's all the more weight behind it when he does.

He's angry. Very, very angry. Hell, I'm furious too, but Garrus…I haven't seen him this riled for a long, long time. Last time he got like this was when I told him the truth about me.

The aftermath of the explosion was horrible. I just sat there on the walkway, back against the railing, and stared at the scene for five minutes. I barely moved, barely even breathed, except for a slight sobbing. I mean…twenty people. Dead, when we could have saved them. Should have saved them. Twenty more people on my conscience.

The shop had been totally reduced to rubble, and there was a ton of wounded people in the crowd below. Minor cuts and bruises from glass, mostly, but a C-Sec officer took some rubble to the back of the head, really nasty blow. He was still alive when they got him into the ambulance…but we don't know what the damage is gonna be yet, if he even survives. The guy has a wife and kids, for fuck's sake. For all we know, he might have permanent brain damage. Because of the bureaucratic crap that meant we couldn't 'take a risk'. Fat lot of good that did us.

Eventually the shock wore off, and I managed to stand up again, even though my hands were still trembling slightly from the whole thing. I remember kicking the sniper rifle off the walkway in fury, angry at how useless it had proven, swearing, venting all the frustration out of my system. As much of it as I could, anyway. I know for a fact Garrus wouldn't have missed that shot. I've seen people die before, experienced more than my fair share of loss…but this, this was preventable with one pull of a trigger.

Pallin made the wrong call. It wasn't an easy decision for him to make, sure…but he got it badly wrong. It should have been down to the agents in the field, yet to avoid risk at all costs, he held us back and it ended in tragedy. The risk avoidance 'at all costs' had a price of twenty lives. There's obviously pressure on Pallin on higher up, and God knows he'll feel terrible about this too…the whole thing comes down to Council policy, in a way.

I'm not gonna try telling that to Garrus, though.

The way he sees it, the whole thing was Pallin's decision. Whatever was going on behind the scenes, Pallin should have just ordered us ahead anyway, and I guess he's right. I also don't doubt that Garrus would have eventually just opened fire, but he got delayed too long. He'll blame himself, a little, but the red tape was the thing that tied his trigger finger down.

We got a brief medical check at the scene, but both of us were determined to get to C-Sec and Pallin as soon as possible. We took a C-Sec cruiser, and Garrus didn't talk on the whole drive over, just staring dead ahead, arms trembling behind the wheel. I was expecting an explosion when we got back to C-Sec…and it looks like I'll be getting one.

"Vakarian, we should do this in my offi-" Pallin starts saying, trying to keep his voice calm, but Garrus cuts him off almost straight away.

"I had a shot!" the turian screams, as we finally close the gap between us and Pallin and give him cold, hard glares. Every single person in the room has stopped what they're doing, and are watching intently as the two turians look each other down. Man, this ain't gonna be pretty… "I could have taken him down right there, right then, and you stopped me! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

"Vakarian, calm down," Pallin hisses, tone changing from calm to agitated. God, that's not the right thing to say…

"Calm down?" Garrus asks incredulously. "Calm down? Twenty people are dead because the command here can't make a damn decision, and you expect me to calm down?"

The Executor shakes his head, sighing. "No, I don't. But can we at least do this in my office? With some privacy?" Garrus looks set to freak again, mandibles widening in fury…but I lightly tap him on the arm, causing the turian to look at me, and give him a small nod. Pallin does have a point. We're freaking people out in the lobby…and this is a discussion for private, not in front of visitors and other officers. The explosion is gonna shake faith in C-Sec enough without two detectives going off it with the Executor in the main lobby.

"Fine," Garrus growls, as Pallin turns and strides off briskly towards his office, and we follow behind. His whole frame is shaking in anger as he walks, eyes wide, mandibles spread and teeth bared slightly. While he can look all cute and handsome when he's calm, he's a pretty scary sight when he's pissed. As most turians are. Razor sharp teeth and height kind of lend themselves to that.

Unfortunately, Pallin's office door is one of the sliding ones, so there's no opportunity to slam it shut behind us, which I strongly feel like doing. "Due respect, sir," I say, struggling to keep my voice calm as the door closes behind us, "but what the hell where you thinking? We had the shot! Garrus has years of experience in the turian military, with Shepard. If he said he could make the shot, he could make it!"

"And Vakarian has a history of irrational decisions and a headstrong attitude!" Pallin replies coldly. "There were no guarantees of hostage safety. I couldn't allow it!"

"A history of irrational decisions?" Garrus yells. "Pallin, every decision I've ever made was to get my job done! My job here is to protect civilians, and I have never, NEVER, faltered in that role! And guaranteeing hostage safety? Any idiot in the field could have seen negotiations were going to fail! They had from the beginning! Trying to take the biotic down was the only way to ensure their safety!"

"It wasn't your decision to make," I add, shaking my head. "You weren't at the scene, Executor! How the hell are you supposed to make a call about a situation you can't even see!"

"I DON'T KNOW, SHAW!" Pallin suddenly screams, raising his voice to the highest volume I think I've ever heard it, eyes burning into mine. "Why don't you tell me? This is the system of command, this is my job! I've been here for thirty years! I have to make these decisions, sometimes it works, sometimes this happens! You don't think I feel guilty here? That I can just write this off and carry on?"

He does actually have a point there…I don't believe Pallin's a bad person, not for a second, and this is gonna be terrible for him too. It doesn't stop Garrus, though. "You didn't make your own decision here, though, did you?" he says, lowering his voice, but the tone carries enough menace and weight for the volume not to matter. "You knew I could make the shot. You've seen my military record, seen my scores at the range, know what I can do. This is political. Someone tied your hands here."

"I don't know what you're talki-"

"Who was it, Pallin?"

"This is ridiculous, Vakarian, I-"

"WHO WAS IT?" Garrus shouts again, walking forward and slamming both talons down on Pallin's desk, hurling datapads off it and sending a resounding crash around the room.

"The Council!" Pallin yells. "Who did you think it would be? Do you know how much faith in Citadel Security has dropped since the Battle of the Citadel? How defenceless people feel? If a C-Sec agent had killed a hostage…I couldn't permit the risk. The Council would never have allowed it."

Are you fucking kidding me? This is the reason behind it all? Oh my God…"That's it?" Garrus gawps. "We just watched twenty people get obliterated in the blink of an eye so C-Sec wasn't accountable for any injuries?"

"Look, Vakarian, I'm as angry as you here…" Pallin begins to say, but he doesn't get very far. At all.

"Don't fucking insult me!" Garrus bellows. "You do not even begin to _understand _how angry I am! At all this red tape bullshit we've been putting up with for months! At all this bureaucratic crap! It just cost twenty people their lives! Did they deserve this? A force that's supposed to protect them, but can't because it doesn't want to risk getting its hands dirty? And you, Venari, you just go along with it! This is your fault as much as theirs!" I can see Pallin physically recoil slightly at the use of his first name, before he snaps back.

"You are walking a thin line here, Vakarian! No C-Sec agent takes that tone with me! I appreciate your anger, but you have stepped _well_ over the line! Don't think I'm beyond firing you!"

With a sudden heave, Garrus reaches under the desk…and flips it into the air, contents smashing down to the floor a moment before the desk itself hits the ground. The sudden movement makes both Pallin and I jump, as Garrus steps over it and shoves a talon in the Executor's face. "You don't need to," he growls. "I'm leaving. I don't need this crap. Not when I can be helping people for real."

Pallin looks shocked for a few seconds, then regains his composure. "Surely you can't be serious."

"Completely." Garrus pulls his badge out, hurling it down in front of Pallin's feet. Holy shit, this is actually it…he's leaving C-Sec. I mean, it's not exactly a huge surprise given everything that happened, but this is finally it. Damn, now he's going too… "Screw you, screw the Council. I can't take this anymore." With that, he turns on his heel, and begins to stride out of the room, door sliding open as he approaches it. Pallin just stares at his back, seemingly at a loss for words, before finally managing to say something.

"Vakarian!" he shouts, but Garrus completely ignores him, door sliding shut behind the turian's back. Fuck, he's probably waiting out there for me…and I've got nothing to say to Pallin that Garrus hasn't.

"I might not be leaving C-Sec," I mutter, looking at the shocked Executor, "but you brought this upon yourself, sir. You know he's right." He just stares at me blankly. Guess he's still surprised at Garrus's 'resignation', and to be honest, I am too. I wasn't expecting this to be the way he quite C-Sec, though I'm actually kind of impressed that he's going out like this. I slowly step out of Pallin's office, and glance over to my left…to see Garrus leaning against the wall a few metres away, with his face rested in one talon. Hopefully he's a little calmer now…

"You okay?" I ask gently, touching him lightly on the arm.

He snaps his head around to face me, eyes ablaze…then the anger dies when he sees who it is. "No. I should have just shot the biotic. But I listened to Pallin for too long, got caught up in the bureaucracy around here like everyone else." He chuckles humourlessly. "Shows what I know."

"This wasn't your fault," I say. He can't be blaming himself for this…not when he got held back like that. It wasn't down to him. "We all know who's to blame here, Garrus. Don't come down on yourself here."

The turian stares at the floor for a few seconds, closing his eyes slightly, then glances back up at me. "You're right. I meant every word I said in there, though. I…I've been thinking about leaving for a while now." He frowns slightly. "I'm sorry for not telling you, I just wasn't sure about it and-"

"Don't worry about it," I smile casually. I knew where he was gonna go anyway… "You wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah, but not here," he nods. "I can't stay in this place any longer, it makes me feel sick."

"Fair enough," I nod. He's really had it…can't say I blame him. "The apartment it is, then. Lead the way."

############

"Omega? I didn't realise that was a good holiday destination this time of year."

Garrus sighs, throwing himself down on a chair at the kitchen table and slamming a bottle of Tupari onto the surface. "This isn't a holiday, Ian. We've been over this."

"Just trying to lighten the mood," I smile, making Garrus lean over and punch me on the arm. "You sure it's the place for you?" To be fair, I already know it's the place for him, and I imagine he'll ask me that at some point…but I want to make sure he's still got the right motivations going in there.

"I can really make a difference there," he nods. "It's lawless, it's where most of our black market problems came from, and the people there need someone to protect them. I won't have bureaucracy getting in my way, either, I can get the job done."

"You're just one man," I point out. "Admittedly, I can't think of many forces more powerful than Garrus Vakarian without rules holding him back, but still…"

"Then I can form a squad," he says firmly. He's really committed to going…I can tell in the way he talks, the conviction behind his words. He's got a plan. And I know he can do it. "Shepard taught us all well. I know how to do it, how to command people, and you know I've got a good head for tactics."

I'll give him that. The Illusive Man's dossier wasn't lying there… "Okay," I nod. "Sounds like you've got this all planned out."

"Yeah," Garrus mutters, leaning back and taking a swig of his drink. "I'm not leaving C-Sec because I don't want to help people anymore. But around here…I can't. Omega lets me do my job." He looks up at me, our eyes locking. "I'm doing the right thing here? Was I supposed to do this all along?"

This might be a little awkward, since I didn't tell him… "Yeah," I sigh. "It was only a matter of time before you left, I've known that for months. I didn't tell you because-"

"When you tell someone about their fate, they feel inclined to change it. I know, Ian, you've mentioned it hundreds of times to Tali and I," he chuckles, then the slight laughter and mirthful look completely slides off his face, and he stares back at me again. Huh? Now he's rising to his feet… "If you knew I was going to Omega," he says quietly. "Did you know what was going to send me there?"

It takes me a few seconds to work out what he's talking about, but it hits me like a sack of bricks when he does. He thinks I knew about the biotic all along! Shit! "I swear to you, Garrus, I had no idea. Even if I had known, I would have stopped it." That's the truth, as well…I mean, twenty people, fucking hell. There would have been other opportunities for Garrus to leave, and it wouldn't have been worth them dying for him to take this one. No way.

I see his talons balled up into fists slightly…before he finally loosens off and shakes his head. "Alright. Spirits, I'm sorry, the thought just hit me and I needed to know if-"

"Don't worry about it," I say reassuringly. I'm still pretty torn up about it, and Garrus is probably taking it worse than me, so I don't want to dwell on it. "You know I can't come with you to Omega, right?"

"You sure?"

I look at the turian, then laugh humourlessly. "No. But you're a big character in this place, Garrus. It's a big personal journey for you, and…well, I dunno if it's a good idea for me to interfere with that. I tried with Tali, and she shot that down."

"I'm not Tali," he points out. "Can you being there really change that much?"

"I have no idea," I shrug. "There's too many variables." With Sidonis, his squad, everything like that…I should warn him about the betrayal near the time, but if I went with him, maybe I wouldn't be able to hold it back. Or I'd cock things up some other way. I know absolutely nothing about his time on Omega…so I could end up changing everything and not even noticing. Or I could have no impact whatsoever. Not being able to calculate this kind of thing pisses me off. "Besides, the Citadel needs at least one person to look after it, right?"

"I guess," Garrus chuckles. We sit there in silence for a few seconds, him sipping his drink while I stare out the window at the Citadel in the night. The view really has changed drastically…little dark spots where building got destroyed and haven't been replaced yet, then patches like beacons where repairs are underway. Looks kinda cool…

"So, when are you leaving?" I ask, breaking the silence again. I think I can guess, though…

The turian sighs, finishing his drink and hurling it in the rubbish compactor. "Tonight." Shit, I thought so. "Everything I need to take I've already got packed." He points to the bag by the door. "Besides, the sooner I get started, the more good I can do. There's nothing good for me on this station, anyway. Just bad memories now."

Fucking hell, that's kinda downbeat. "It wasn't all bad. We did some good work here, you and I," I say. "Stopping that elcor, stemming the red sand tide. We've made quite the mess of the black market around here."

"I suppose that's true," Garrus nods, smiling a little bit. "I'm surprised you've got fond memories of the red sand case, though. You died."

"Ah, semantics," I shrug. "It's not like I really felt it. It wasn't just work, either. I mean, the apartment, going to Flux-"

"And the bartender in Flux," Garrus grins. "Still trying to get you drunk."

I laugh properly at that. So damn true. "I swear I saw him trying to spike my drink at one point."

"I think I told him to," the turian says, and we both start laughing for about half a minute, before we finally calm down.

I sigh slightly. "What happened to those times, eh?"

"The geth attacked," Garrus mutters. "Today happened. Face it, Ian, this place isn't the same it was two years ago."

"I guess we aren't the same people either." Garrus nods at that, a little solemnly. It's true, though. I was only young back then…I mean, I'm hardly old at 20 years old, but the past two years have matured me incredibly. Even Garrus has changed. "I guess you know your shuttle time, then?"

"Leaves in half an hour," he nods. "I should probably get going, actually."

After two and half years, almost three, he's actually going to Omega. We've been totally inseparable the whole time, and now… "I never expected it to be like this when you left," I say. "The dramatic part of me was expecting epic music, some kind of sunset in the background, wind blowing through my hair, shit like that."

"If only life was like the vids," Garrus chuckles. "This is it, then. For a year and a bit."

"Yeah," I nod, rising to my feet and looking at him. "I guess it is. I'm sorry I can't come with you, man. Seriously."

"So am I," he sighs. "But you're right. This might have to be something I have to do myself. Besides, if you ever change your mind, you'll know where to find me."

I smile a little bit, but it's a sad one. "I'll bear that in mind." We stand there for what feels like an hour, just staring at each other, then the turian lifts up his talon and holds it out for me. I grab it, and shake his hand, but it feels kind of empty. After all this time, everything we've been through…can't just leave on a handshake.

I pull him in and put an arm around his back, to a surprised noise from Garrus, then he returns the gesture. "Watch yourself out there, okay?" I say, feeling like I'm choking up slightly. "I swear to God, if I find out you've gone out there and wound up dead, I am gonna fucking kill you."

"Whatever you say," he chuckles. We hold the hug for a few more seconds, then it finally breaks apart. That was manly, right? I still feel like crying…but I'm not going to burst into tears when he's just standing right there. That definitely isn't manly. "I've got a shuttle to catch," Garrus finally mutters, and starts slowly walking over to the door, picking up his bag on the way there. I just watch him head over, half of me wanting to just take off with him, but I hold myself back. I can't.

"Stay safe, Garrus," I say, as the door slides open and he steps over the threshold. The turian stops, turns around…then gives me a simple nod.

"You too."

Then the door slides shut…and he's gone. My partner, best mate, gone for a year and a half. To possibly the most dangerous place in the galaxy. And now, for the first time ever in this universe, I've got to strike it out alone.

I slowly sit back down at the table, rest my head on the surface, just shutting my eyes and trying to ignore the horrible mess I've gotten myself into.

##############

**September 22****nd****, 2183  
****7:34am, Citadel time  
****Ian Shaw's apartment**

Beep beep. Beep beep.

I blearily open one eye, groggily swinging my right arm around to try and deactivate the alarm on my omni-tool. What the fuck…why would I set it this early? My vision's kinda hazy on waking up, but the display shows what looks like an envelope, and Pallin's face in a small box off to the left of it. I knew I hadn't set an alarm…

"Garrus!" I yell. "Pallin wants us at C-Se…" I finally reach full consciousness, and realise what I'm doing. "Fuck."

It's been just over a month since he left. Looks like I'm still not over it.

I've had an instinct to shout him awake for years now, though, so I guess that was going to take a little while to undo straight away. Maybe by the time Mass Effect 2 rolls around I'll have sorted it, but somehow I doubt that. I roll out of bed, activating the lights and reaching over for my work uniform.

Just in case C-Sec wasn't bad enough, they've actually brought in a dress code now. Jeans and t-shirts are out, replaced by more formal wear for detectives. I'm able to get away with a suit, which doesn't make it quite so bad (and means I don't have to dress like Udina or something), but they _really _know how to get to me…

It's not been a fabulous month, I'll be honest. Crime has been low, which I guess is a plus…but it also means I've had very little to do, except filling in paperwork and pursuing small time stuff. I'm still on the Contraband desk, which is a small consolation because I'm still in my area of expertise, but I've got this new partner…I don't think he's a bad guy, but he absolutely has to do _everything _by the book.

He's a human, called Junpei Iori. Quite young, I think he's about 24, and his heart's definitely in the right place. Wants to help people on the Citadel, stop crime, all that stuff. Unfortunately, he seems to think the best way of doing that is ensuring we fill out all the paperwork to the letter. Garrus and I had found ways of cutting corners in the few months he was around…Junpei was having absolutely none of it. Which kinda pissed me off.

He's ambitious, too. Ordinarily, that'd be fine…but it's to the point where I think he's trying to make himself out to be better than me. I'm not saying I am, since we're partners, and the whole point is we're equal…but there's this whole side to his personality based on trying to be the best that's incredibly frustrating as part of a team. He obviously wants to get as far up the ranks as possible…and he can have fun with that, I'd just rather he wasn't doing it off my back.

He is new to the desk, though, no experience as a detective before. And it's only been a month, so obviously he's still got stuff to learn…but after all the time with Garrus, I really don't have the patience.

At least money woes haven't been an issue. Garrus left behind enough credits to pay his half of the rent for a year and half, which was good of him, along with a little bit extra. I don't plan on spending it, though, since I've got enough cash by myself, especially since it was my birthday last week and there was a whip round the office for a present of credits for me, which was surprisingly nice for turning 21. Even if Garrus not being there was kind of a blow, since he was around for the last two.

I take another quick glance at the message Pallin sent as I walk through into the kitchen, and it's a bit of a surprise to see it's only addressed to me. Guess Junpei isn't coming along for this one. That's a bit odd…I grab some cereal from the cupboard, glancing over at the one previously set aside for dextro-food, now conspicuously empty.

As I grab a spoon and carton of milk, it makes me start thinking about him again. All the little things I took for granted…the banter we had in the mornings, fuss of making sure we didn't accidentally poison ourselves by eating the other's food, that sort of thing. I'm mostly over it…but it still does really suck.

I skim the message content as I shovel the cereal quickly into my mouth. There's no time stated for when I should get into the office, a simple ASAP doing the trick there at the bottom of the text. He's not being very specific…just says it's urgent and requires my immediate attention. Though to get me up about an hour early, I hope it's good.

I finish up my quick breakfast, sliding the bowl across the counter towards the sink, and wincing slightly when it crashes down into it. One of these days I'm gonna run out of crockery…but that doesn't matter. Time to go see what's got Pallin so worked up today.

I grab my jacket off its peg, throwing it on as the door slides open, and set off at a light jog towards C-Sec headquarters.

#############

"Executor," I say, unable to help a sardonic tone slipping into my voice I step into his office. "To what do I owe the pleasure of being woken up this early?"

"It's eight in the morning, Shaw, this isn't really that early," he sighs, gesturing to one of the seats in front of his desk. New desk. His old one broke when Garrus flipped it. "Take a seat. We have an important matter to discuss."

"Well, now I'm really intrigued," I grin, sliding the seat back and settling into it. "Because there's been fuck-all to do around here recently…" Pallin shoots me a glare. Crap, probably shouldn't be swearing. "Sorry."

The Executor just shakes his head. "I've been used to it for years, I probably shouldn't change that mindset now. This isn't about C-Sec, though." It's not? "It's about Vakarian." He looks up at me, looking slightly smug at my gobsmacked expression. "Was that worth being woken up early before?"

"Depends what it is," I finally say, regaining my composure. No-one actually knows where Garrus has gone except me, since his identity on Omega needs to remain secret. When Pallin asked, I just said he disappeared before I could ask. He didn't believe me, that much was obvious, but he didn't pursue it any further. "But yes, now I'm definitely interested."

"I'll cut to the chase," he nods. "I've been in contact with his father recently, Cereus."

Garrus's dad? This already sounds like it can't be good…the two don't exactly have the best past. "He keeps in contact with you?"

"I knew him quite well when he was in C-Sec," Pallin shrugs. "We talk from time to time. This wasn't just an idle chat, though. He wants to know where his son's gone."

"So does half the office," I shrug, immediately getting defensive. Like hell am I telling Garrus's father anything. "I already told you, I don't know where he went."

"We both know that's a lie," Pallin mutters, then holds up a talon as I get ready to snap something back. "It's nothing to concern yourself with. Cereus would like to see his son return to the Citadel."

I shake my head furiously. "He wants him back because having his son quite C-Sec makes him look bad. A runaway son is bad for his public face, that's his concern."

"I know that too," the Executor sighs. "For once in your life, Shaw, let me finish. Cereus has…leaned on some diplomatic channels. He stills holds a lot of influence at C-Sec and politically, and he wants his son to be searched for and brought back. I know you're aware of his location, which is why you're here."

"I just told you, I don't want to help his father with anything," I say.

"In this case, neither do I," Pallin nods. Huh? "That's not what I'm offering you here. I've been keeping an eye on you since Vakarian left, Ian. You're less motivated, less committed, and your relationship with Iori is strained at best. Am I right, or seeing things that aren't there?"

Guess that's not really any point lying to him…he knows the truth, anyway, so I'd just be delaying the inevitable. And Pallin deserves more than that from me. "Yeah, you're right." I nod.

"Good," he replies. "C-Sec isn't the right place for you anymore, Ian. After everything I heard you did with Commander Shepard, everything you went through with Vakarian by your side…we both know you're better suited elsewhere. Which is what I'm offering you here."

Wait a minute…is Pallin _helping _me? Is he suggesting I take off after Garrus…then don't come back? I've always been unsure about not going to Omega with him, and this might just confirm those doubts. Pallin just said I'm not suited to C-Sec anyway, so one way or another, I think I'll be leaving my detective position. And as long as Garrus survives Omega, how much change can I really cause? I'm not a superstitious man…but if this isn't a blatant sign to go after him, then I don't know what is.

"Are you saying I should go hunt Garrus down, and-"

"Not return," Pallin says, smiling slightly now that I've got the bigger picture. "Precisely. This solves a mutual problem for us both. I can put someone else on Contraband, and you can do what you were supposed to do with Vakarian."

I raise an eyebrow. "What about his father?"

"He'll have to put up with the mission being a failure," Pallin shrugs. "It doesn't concern me. I'm offering you a chance here, Ian. Are you going to take it?" I can barely believe it…after all this time, Pallin's actually come through for me. Made me realise what I'm supposed to do. Garrus was right. Screw C-Sec, I've found my calling.

"Yes, sir, I think I am," I grin. "Do you need my badge?"

The Executor shakes his head. "No. Officially, you're on a mission to find Vakarian, so you'll still leave this office as a C-Sec agent. However, if you were to hurl your badge out of an airlock, it would be no concern of mine."

"Thank you, Pallin," I say, rising to my feet. "Seriously. I know we've had some bad times and all…but you're good at your job here. You've looked out for me while I've been here, in your own slightly cold-hearted way." Pallin glares at me again. "That was a joke."

"You never were very funny," he mutters. "Go on. Get going. I've never cared for these long-winded goodbyes." Oh. Right you are, then. I start to turn on my heel and head for the door, when a sudden thought hits me.

Mass Effect Inquisition. The little comic they released where Pallin winds up getting killed by Bailey because of alleged evidence linking him to the Council's enemies. Pallin's supposed to die and be replaced, but the Executor of C-Sec isn't going to make a massive impact on the timeline with Shepard and the Reapers…in fact, having an ally in that position could be rather useful.

All one would have do is make sure Pallin was forewarned of this evidence so he could disprove it…I mean, there is a risk he _is _actually aiding Council enemies, but the comic and my own personal experience of the man suggest that's extremely unlikely to be the case. Pallin's worked here for thirty years, and been a diligent public servant. Why would that change?

"There's something I should probably tell you, sir," I say, slowly turning back around. Pallin looks up at me expectantly. Here goes nothing… "Something I need to warn you about, even though I probably shouldn't."

His eyes widen slightly. "What?"

"I was in the Council offices the other day," I say, thinking up a vague excuse of how I could gain this knowledge, "and I overheard a conversation. Not going to say who it was in-between…but from what I heard, it involved evidence linking the Executor of C-Sec to aiding the Council's enemies."

The Executor in question stares at me for a few seconds, before chuckling slightly. "If this is a joke, Shaw, it's not funny." I give him a serious look back. "Spirits, you're not joking."

"Nope."

"This is ridiculous!" Pallin says, raising his voice in anger. "Fabrications and lies, all of it! I would never-"

"I know," I say reassuringly. "That's why I'm telling you about this. There might be a conspiracy against you, so…keep your eyes peeled. If that evidence exists, you might want to set about disproving it. That's all I'm saying."

The Executor looks at me for a few seconds...then bows his head slightly. "Thank you for the warning. I'll look into it."

"No problem," I say, returning the gesture. Hopefully that'll be enough to save him. I can't do much more, anyway. "Goodbye, Pallin."

"Goodbye, Ian," he says, waving me away with a talon as I walk out of his door and it slides shut behind me.

Well then. That was quite the twist of fate.

I hope my armour still fits.

##############

Yep, it does. It feels really weird to be all suited up again, skin-tight weave under the bulkier outside plates, a weight that I haven't been used to for months, yet still somehow manages to feel familiar. Still got the helmet in the collar, blood dragon styling, complete with chips and scratches from battle and finished off with the huge gouge I got courtesy of the alpha varren.

I've got my own handgun and sniper rifle, too, which are on their magnetic strips, all folded up and ready to go. I can scarcely believe Pallin managed to change my mind like this, that I'm actually going to Omega…but he's right. C-Sec isn't my place anymore.

It really is a shit-hole on Omega, but Garrus is there. I've got nowhere else to go, and he's my best friend. Someone ought to watch his back, make sure he comes out of there in one piece…and this way makes sure I can help out him and his squad. Besides, I always was interested to see what he got up to on that asteroid. Experiencing it first-hand is the best way of finding that out.

I don't think it's gonna be so easy finding him. He'll have adopted the Archangel persona by now, got his squad together, gone into hiding. If he's hidden, I'll probably have to talk to Aria T'Loak to see where he's at, or at least get close enough for him to do the rest…boy, this really ought to be fun.

It's the right thing to do, though. Make myself useful, see Garrus again, maybe even grab Cerberus's attention. I've survived Noveria, Feros, Therum, Virmire, Ilos, Saren, Sovereign, even death itself. Time to go add one more thing to the list.

I walk through the apartment door, taking one last look at the contents inside, then the door slides shut behind me. As I press down on the button concealed in the wrist of my armour, I can't help but grin slightly as the helmet folds out up and over my face, familiar hum as the electronics activate. Just like old times.

Let's do this shit.

**A/N: Finally, we're heading to Omega! From here on in, that will be the new setting. Is the story taking a slightly darker tone because of the darker location? Perhaps...**

**Yet again, blown away by feedback. I thought 100 reviews would be cool by now, but apparently that wasn't good enough for you all, hahaha. I say it every chapter, but only because it's so true, thank you so much. **

**Well, next time around, Ian'll head to Omega...and the hunt for Archangel will begin. See you then!**


	5. Ian vs The Queen

Chapter 5

The Wombats: Moving to New York

The shuttle to Omega is surprisingly busy. More than I was expecting, anyway. It's not exactly the kind of grand ship you'd see going off to Palaven or something, just a single floor shuttle with basic seating and a _nasty_ refreshment trolley, but even so I didn't think this many of the Citadel's residents would be heading off to arguably the most lawless places in the galaxy. From somewhere with over two hundred thousand law enforcement officers, to another place where there's absolutely none.

I guess everyone has their reasons, though. If you're making this kind of move, chances are you've got something to hide from C-Sec. Some are probably going to head off to try and make their fortune where regulations don't apply, alleged 'businessmen' who find ethics aren't contusive to profits. A few might be looking for a good time, like the gaggle of young turians towards the front of the ship, already knocking back the drinks at a rate of knots. Omega is somewhat infamous for a sweet entertainment scene, so long as you don't stray away from Afterlife.

Then you've got the down and outs, like the drunk man a few seats to my right, wearing a ragged suit and a permanent frown. The alcohol is cheap, awful stuff, so he's clearly drinking to drown any sorrows rather than for pleasure. Omega must be his last hope…but it's probably going to chew him up and spit him right out again. It's the kind of place that preys on the weak, so unless he's hiding a rocket launcher somewhere, he's gonna be in trouble.

It's kind of depressing to think about, when I look around. I mean, the vast majority of people here are either down on their luck, making one last roll of the dice, or criminals. Hell, I could arrest everyone on the shuttle, take them back to C-Sec, and I reckon with a bit of background digging I'd manage to get a conviction on…ooh, at least a third of them. That said, announcing that I'm a C-Sec agent on a shuttle to Omega, of all places, won't win me any friends quickly. I think trying to arrest even one person here would get me killed.

Besides, technically I'm not C-Sec anymore. Haven't had an opportunity to throw my badge out of an airlock yet, but next garbage compactor I find ought to do the trick. From now on, or at least for a year and a half, I don't have to worry about the law. Admittedly, I didn't worry about it that much before, but now it's completely gone. From detective to vigilante. I'm gonna have to reinvent my image, that's for sure…on the Citadel, in public I appeared like an upstanding member of society. On Omega, in public I'm gonna have to appear like a fearless badass. Not that it's a problem.

I'm not doing a bad job of it already, to be honest. Leaning idly back in my seat, armour on, helmet up. From now on, I need to keep my identity a secret, so no-one gets to see my face except people I really trust. It's intimidating, too. I'm getting a few wary glances from people, and the seats next to me have remained empty for the whole trip. Just how I like it. The pistol and sniper rifle are probably helping there, too. Only got two spare heat sinks on me, but that should suffice.

A sharp laugh from the side of the ship grabs my attention, as I see a group of young humans and turians, all dressed in personalised armour and walking around as if they own the place. Bloody idiots. No prizes for guessing what they're going to be doing once we touch down…signing straight up with the merc groups. Something tells me they aren't going to last. Fancy colours on your armour aren't any kind of compensation for combat experience. Besides, they're trying too hard to seem threatening, swaggering about and talking loudly. It's the quiet, understated tough guys you really have to watch out for, not these amateurs.

I glance down, looking at the red dragon proudly displayed across mine, along with the glowing blue slits I know are showing from my helmet. Okay, so maybe I'm being a little hypocritical there…but still, I've got the experience to back it up. The little scratches and stuff on their armour are blatantly fake, mine's 100% pure battle-wear. Especially the varren gouge. That's still kinda awesome.

One of the guys, a turian, actually has proper Blue Suns armour on. Maybe he recruited these guys on the Citadel, and now they're coming to Omega to sign up and 'serve' here. Huh. Blue Suns logo is really dumb, though. A small circle inside a slightly larger oval. Genius. Truly awe-inspiring. Even the guy who did the 2012 Olympics logo could have come up with something better than that.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, this shuttle will be reaching Omega in just less than five minutes, where this service will terminate. Please ensure you have all personal belongings, and __we hope your trip was a comfortable one."_

Looks like this is my stop…it's not like I've got any luggage to worry about, since I'll be able to sort everything out once I find Garrus. If I find Garrus. If Aria can't help me out…well, it'll make things problematic. But she should be able to. On a place like Omega, staying optimistic is probably a good thing. It keeps me from becoming part of the crowd here, anyway.

I rise to my feet, actually making a nervous looking salarian shirk out of the way as I start walking towards the airlock. Shit, didn't mean to do that…can't be helped, I guess. I almost stop to apologise, but manage to over-ride the instinct and keep moving. Gotta appear badass. Apologising to random people won't quite do that for me.

I take a quick glance out of the shuttle window…and there it is. Omega. The enormous asteroid, red ring at the top of it showing the residential area. It looks oddly like a jellyfish…makes sense, given the dangerous nature of it. The blood red glow coming off it casts an ominous light through onto the floor and walls of the shuttle, as we hurtle towards the top of the asteroid, and presumably the spaceport. I quickly check all my weapons are in place, reaching a hand over my left shoulder to check my knife is firmly attached. Good. After the amount of times it's saved my life, I consider it my lucky charm. And I need all the luck I can get.

"_Now on final approach to Omega. Please have your tickets ready for disembarking.'_

I quickly check for my tickets…and any credits I have. Again, money won't be an issue when I meet up with Garrus, but unfortunately I think it's going to take quite a few bribes to get to that point. No matter, though. While I'd rather not just be throwing out money like it's fucking Christmas, it's the easiest and best way to get to where I want, and to get any answers I need. I only need the money for one place, anyway.

Time to start off my Omega experience, with a trip to the one landmark I know best. Afterlife, here I come.

##############

The shuttle arrived mercifully close to Afterlife, which was pretty convenient. The spaceport we arrived at was pretty close to the one the Normandy docks at in Mass Effect 2, I believe, since the walk to Afterlife only took me about three minutes, the club itself towering above the other buildings and giving out a beacon of light in the permanent darkness. Omega doesn't actually have a daytime…so I'm gonna have to get used the constant artificial light, which is patchy as hell. Meh. At least it'll make missions easier.

Afterlife is the more civilised area of Omega, though. I imagine if the shuttle had dropped us any deeper, people would have ran back onto it screaming and begging to be taken back. So far, I've seen a few nutters mumbling to themselves, people passed out by the side of the walkways…and I caught a glimpse of some mercenaries 'chatting' to a shopkeeper through a window. Looks like they're not beyond a protection racquet once in a while. I was half hoping Garrus and squad would burst in, kill them, and we'd meet up, but that was always going to be a stretch.

I've overheard the word 'Archangel' from conversations as I've walked, though. Obviously he's got the name sorted out…and from the sounds of it, a squad too. He's been busy. Then again, what else did I expect?

I can see the krogan bouncer outside of Omega as I stride towards the club, exchanging some sharp words with a human male, I think. As I get closer, I faintly hear a high-pitched, irritating and all too familiar voice whining something…

"Come on, let me in!"

"Piss off," the krogan grunts. "Every night, kid. One of these days, you're gonna learn to stop trying."

"Aria's expecting me!"

"She wasn't for the first hundred times you tried that. Why would that change now?"

I stride around the side of the queue, heading straight towards the bouncer, who catches sight of me and grins slightly. Time to bribe it up! "You too, human? You want to get in as well?"

"Yep," I nod, unable to help grinning at the awesome robotic edge my voice gets from the helmet. Thank Christ the krogan can't see my expression. May as well at least try to get in for free first… "Is that some kind of problem?"

"There's a queue, moron, so yeah," he grunts, pointing to the back of the line. "Wait your damn turn."

Well, looks like I'm paying. Ah well…to be fair, this guy does have to keep that annoying human outside of Afterlife, so I suppose he deserves a little something extra. "See," I say, pulling out some credits and holding my hand out, "I think I have a priority pass, or something."

The krogan looks me up and down a few times, taking in my weapons, and frowns slightly. "You looking for trouble?"

"Nope," I shrug. "Just a drink. The weapons are for protection, not to start something off." He stares at me for a few more seconds…then slowly reaches out and pockets the credits. Ah, I knew he wouldn't resist.

"Go ahead," he nods. "You start anything, though, I'm pulling you right back out. No refunds."

"Fair enough," I reply, then start making my way forwards as the bouncer steps to the side. That's one layer down…and I've still got most of my credits. I mean, the guy only took a hundred, and I was prepared to pay more. People around here are _cheap._ The human at the front of the queue seems to take offence, though.

"Hey!" he shouts. "I've got credits too! Let me in! I can pay!"

"See," I hear the krogan mutter, "the thing is, I just don't like you. Take a walk, asshole." I chuckle slightly as the huge doors into the atrium slide open, and I make my way forward, staring at the flames projected on the screens to the side. Still not sure whether that's cool or just tacky…I'm leaning towards tacky, but it does cast a pretty awesome light on the place.

Shit, I'm getting sidetracked. Look for Garrus, don't admire the décor. The song playing in the club, slightly muffled by the next set of doors ahead of me, sounds awfully familiar, though. The synthesiser, drums, bass line…nah, it can't be. Why would they play something that old?

"_Take it back when she knows that you're doing it right…"_

Holy shit, I don't believe it.

"_Cos everybody else knows what they're taking tonight…"_

Just as the second set of doors slide open, and the interior of Afterlife is revealed, the song suddenly hits the drop and I can't help laughing. Deadmau5 songs are still popular in 2184? That is so awesome…

The floor is practically pounding from the music as I start making my way slowly towards Aria's booth, taking in the sights and sounds of the club. Asari dancers are still firmly in place, suspended in the centre of the room on a slightly elevated ring, purple 360º screen behind them projecting close ups of the 'employees', two regions in particular.

I can see most of the patrons ogling at them from the railing surrounding the ring. Never really understood the massive appeal asari seem to have to everyone in this galaxy, so I didn't give it much thought as I cast my eyes around elsewhere. The place is bathed in red light, as seems to be the general trend with all of Omega, with yellow squares run around the circumference of each level, glowing dimly.

There's a balcony floor above me, with more people staring down onto the main stage…and I know there's the main bar below, but I don't plan on drinking. The private room where the mercs will eventually start recruiting is on my left, as I head towards the assault rifle wielding turian to the side of Aria's booth, glancing at the multitude of different coloured bottles adorning the wall behind the small bar I walk up. I don't regret not drinking, but I imagine I am missing out on quite a lot.

No time to dwell on it, though, as the turian finally catches my eye and narrows his eyes. I think his name is…Grizz, if memory serves. Not that I'll be using it. "Private area, move on," he says sharply, as I approach him.

"I'm here to see Aria," I reply calmly. I'm _definitely _going to have to bribe this guy…but may as well have a chat first. "Just up those steps, right?"

"No, not for you," he barks, taking a step forward and looking more pissed off now. "She's not seeing anyone at the moment, and you ain't anything special."

"Five hundred credits say otherwise." I bring out more credits, and I don't think I've ever seen someone's expression change so fast. The look of anger on Grizz's face is replaced immediately by a slight grin. He may as well have dollar signs in his eyes or something…I guess going in with a high bribe to start off with does the trick rather nicely.

"Yeah, actually, I think I have heard of you," he nods, snatching the money almost straight away. "You're…"

I can't help shaking my head slightly. "I'm that one guy Aria's really interested to see, remember,?"

"That's it," he nods. "Right up those steps, then." Hopefully that should be all my bribing done for now…unless Aria wants money too, but I've got that covered. It's actually kind of fun, seeing how quickly a few credits change someone from aggressive to rather helpful.

"Is this how you make most of your money?" I chuckle on the way past, stopping and the first step and looking back at the turian.

"Yeah," he replies, seriously. Wow, I was actually joking… "Move on. Five hundred credits doesn't buy you that much of my time."

"How many credits would buy me some manners around here?"

Grizz's growl suggests the conversation's over, and I don't really fancy pushing my luck anymore, so I finally ascend the stairs…and there she is.

Aria T'Loak. Or, as the nerdy part of my brain keeps screaming, Trinity from the Matrix. Not sure who would be more intimidating, but I'm never exactly gonna find out, so that's a moot point. The Queen of Omega narrows her eyes at me as I appear, purple skin tensing slightly around her eyes, but she doesn't signal anyone to shoot me. Well, at least that's a good start.

I only make it up the steps to the couch she's sitting on, though, before the batarian standing next to the booth pulls his pistol and points it at me. For literally no reason. I stare back down the barrel, thankful for the fact I'll look all impassive with the helmet on, even though my first instinct is to grimace slightly. And here I was hoping for a friendly introduction…though Aria didn't signal him, and he's seemingly doing this for no reason. Probably trying to intimidate me. He's not gonna fire that thing. And I can turn this on its head…

"Careful, mate," I say calmly. "You'll have someone's eye out with that." I see Aria smirk slightly from the couch…ah, good, scoring some points already there.

The batarian, however, fails to see the funny side, ramming the muzzle right up into my face. "What was that, human?"

"I'm just saying," I mutter, keeping my voice low, quite and mildly threatening, "you shouldn't point that kind of thing around unless you plan on using it." There's four other guards in the area…two turians, a human, and one more batarian. All of them seem perfectly happy to just watch now, mind. And I've got a trick I learned of Ash in mind for this situation…

"Is this human for real?" the guard laughs mockingly, keeping his handgun in the exact same position. Exactly where I want it. "What the fuck would you know?"

I shrug calmly. "Oh, nothing. Only something like this." I snatch out with my left arm quickly, grabbing the batarian's wrist and twisting it around before he can react, then snatch the pistol out of his hand, take a step back, and point it straight back in his face. The whole move only takes about a second, and the batarian looks absolutely stunned as the tables turn. Fucking idiot. That move was one of the first things Ash taught me, along with telling me never to point a gun and not fire it within five feet of anyone. Because this exact thing might happen.

Unfortunately, the noise of weapons being drawn and a quick glance over my shoulder confirms I've got four _other _guns being pointed at me. Ah, shit. Maybe I should have considered all the other people with guns before I decided to teach him a lesson. Thankfully, no-one's opened fire yet…instead, we're all looking at Aria. Hopefully me showing I'm not gonna get pushed around has won me some respect with her…or I'm gonna be in a whole heap of trouble.

There's an agonising wait, before the asari finally starts laughing, giving me a small smile. The guards gradually lower their weapons, as Aria starts to clap mockingly from her position. I can think of worse ways to introduce myself…

"Bold move," she states, as I spin the pistol around on my finger and hand it back to the batarian, who just shoots me a filthy glare. "He's been pointing that gun at everything and everyone. I was starting to get sick of it." The batarian looks even more pissed off at that, but has enough sense not to say anything. "You must be new here." She beckons towards the couch, and I sit on the one perpendicular to her. Don't want to get too close, give the wrong impression.

"How can you tell?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"First, I've never seen your face…" she frowns. "Well, your helmet around here before. And anyone with experience of Omega would know assuming someone isn't going to fire their weapon is a bad move. Though, since you're here, you must at least know who I am."

I nod, grinning from inside the helmet. "Yep. Even the new people around here have heard of Aria T'Loak."

"Good," she nods. She always has this sly, calculating manner to her expression…and her voice carries a quiet threatening tone behind it. No wonder she came so far around here. "I'm the boss, ruler, CEO, queen, if you're feeling dramatic. And with that stunt you pulled there, you seem like the dramatic type."

"Yes, your majesty."

She laughs properly at that, leaning her head back slightly. "Oh, you, I like." Not sure whether that's good or bad… "So I'll give you a warning. Omega has only one rule."

Oh, I know what's coming here. I do love the line, though. The way she says it is pretty chill-inducing… "What's that?"

"Don't fuck with Aria." Yep, giving me even more chills now I'm here in the flesh. It's the way she puts emphasis on every word, how she can say something like that and have the weight in her tone that makes you believe it. "If you forget it, someone around here will remind you." I hear the human guard crack his knuckles at an obnoxious volume from behind me. Wish I could do that…

"I think I'll be able to remember that," I nod. "I'm good with rules. Have to be where I'm from."

"Oh?" Aria says, leaning forward. "Where you're from? You haven't really introduced yourself, have you?" Ah, shit, I'm trying to stay anonymous, not drop hints as to where I'm from and who I am! I'm gonna have to stay on my toes here.

I shake my head. "It's not important. I came here for some information."

"Then you came to the right place," Aria says, settling back in her seat. She obviously doesn't care enough about me to push the point. That's good. "Information about what? And don't waste my time with some trivial shit."

"I need to know about Archangel," I say. There's a slight movement on Aria's face, her eyes widening slightly, before her normal expression returns. Slight tell there…something tells me if she wasn't interested in me before, she might be now. "Is that classed under 'trivial shit'?"

She shakes her head slowly. "Not exactly. But I don't know as much as I'd like to about him."

I shrug. That's actually quite good to hear…Garrus is obviously staying under the radar. "I'll take what I can get. What can you tell me about him?"

"Are you some kind of bounty hunter, or something?" she asks. "Archangel's a big target for one person, and all going after him is going to get you is an early grave. The merc groups haven't been able to get him so far. He's a turian, showed up here about a month ago. Managed to get a squad together quickly, and he's been causing havoc with the mercenary operations." She's talking about him…but her voice lacks any kind of venom in the description. I wonder…

I fold my arms casually. "You don't seem to be particularly bothered by him."

"Archangel's reckless and idealistic. Thinks he's fighting for the good of Omega." Aria sighs slightly. "There is no good side to Omega. But, he helps keep the merc groups in check."

Ah, I see! Aria doesn't want mercenary groups becoming too powerful, so Garrus making sure they can't do that means she doesn't have to worry about her position as ruler. Clever…

"So, if I were to say I was looking to help him, you wouldn't have a problem with that? Hypothetically speaking." Aria gives me a sharp glare. Whoops, I may have ballsed that up…

"Another bit of free advice," she says. "Saying that kind of thing isn't going to win you many friends on Omega." Aria's not exactly signalled anyone to kill me for hinting I want to join Archangel, though…instead, the calculating smile on her face has got a little wider. Hmm.

"I'm not looking for many friends," I reply. "Only one." I'm not sure how much I should tell her…but if I stay vague around the subject, I should stay good here. Give her tiny bits of information to keep her interested, but nothing concrete. And making sure Aria is at least slightly on my side definitely doesn't hurt. "Archangel and I go back a bit."

"Do you, now?" she asks, leaning forward and fixing me with her stare. "Well, isn't that _interesting._ You realise that the mercenary groups would pay huge sums of money to secure someone with knowledge about Archangel, don't you? I could easily just pass you along."

Crap, I didn't consider that. Bad fucking move…but I don't think it's in her interests to do sell me on like that. "But you're not going to do that, are you?" I ask, trying to sound confidence despite the horrible feeling I'm now in way over my head.

"Why not?"

"Because Archangel is doing you a favour at the moment. Keeps the merc groups at bay, and you can comfortably remain queen without having to worry about any power struggle." I lean back slightly, adjusting my body language to appear calm. "Am I crazy, or am I onto something there?" Aria doesn't reply. I'll take that as a yes… "I'm not here to fight you, Aria. I'm here to help Archangel. This is mutually beneficial for both of us."

Aria keeps staring at me for a few seconds, clearly thinking it over, before chuckling slightly and leaning back in her seat again. "For someone new around here, you've got a smart head on you. Naïve for wanting to help Archangel, but you catch on quick." I guess that was a compliment? I'll take it as one, anyway. "Alright. If you want to go off and get yourself killed in a war against the merc groups, that's your business. I might be able to help you find Archangel. But I expect something in return."

Damn. This kind of information was never going to be free, though, especially since I'm obviously relying on her here. Don't really have much choice but to accept what she's asking, provided it's nothing too major. "What're you after?"

"If you find Archangel, tell him to stay away from me," she says. "I don't want to have to crush him, but if he makes a run for me then the mercenary groups will seem like child's play. I have no interest in fighting him. Make sure he has none in fighting me. Got it?" Ha, that's a great deal! Garrus isn't dumb enough to try anything with Aria…so I'm basically getting this for free! Not going to tell her that, though.

"I think I can manage that," I nod. "So, your turn. I'm guessing you don't know his base location."

Aria shakes her head, looking a little annoyed. "No. But I do know about a red sand deal going down tonight, in a private Blue Suns spaceport not far from here. A prize Archangel's not going to miss." Oh, here we go…this sounds right up Garrus's street. "The shipment was supposed to be a secret, but the Blue Suns mercenaries setting it up have been shouting all over Omega about it."

"Not very good at keeping secrets, then."

"They didn't have to until Archangel showed up," Aria shrugs. "What's the human idiom…something about ships?"

"Loose lips sink ships," I nod, grinning from inside the helmet. Good to hear that phrase is still running around these days.

"That's it," she nods. "Anyway, it's exactly the kind of thing Archangel has a history of targeting. They move quickly, destroy the shipment and any remove any guards, then escape before reinforcements can arrive. I can't promise he'll be there tonight…but I'd be highly surprised if he wasn't."

Yeah, this sounds perfect. Definitely the kind of thing Garrus and the rest of his squad would attack, from what I remember of his description of the team in Mass Effect 2…and the perfect place to meet up with him. Plus, I found out that Aria is secretly keeping a blind eye to him, because he's doing her a favour. Score! "Can you give me the spaceport location?" I ask. "Still not sure where I'm going around here…"

"You'll find it doesn't get much easier," Aria chuckles, as one of the guards opens his omni-tool, and I get mine ready for the data transfer. "Omega doesn't have much of an order, architecturally or socially. Not like living on the Citadel, right?"

"Yeah," I say absent-mindedly, as the data finishes downloading. Alright, now I've got me the co-ordinates I nee-

Wait, did she just get me to tell her where I'm from? I look at the asari…and the smile on her face has gotten even bigger. FUCK! "So, you're from the Citadel," she chuckles. "I had a hunch."

"I might be," I shrug, rising to my feet. I just need to get out of here as fast as possible, now, before I slip up anywhere else…

"I can just check the footage from the most recent shuttle from the Citadel to check," Aria smiles. "I'm the queen of Omega. The people in this place are my subjects, and I make sure to know as much as I can about the more…interesting ones."

I feel like facepalming slightly. At least this means I can find Garrus…but now Aria and I have a 'relationship'. Still, she doesn't know anything overly important about me, and she's helping me out. For now, anyway. I imagine that could turn on its head all too quickly. Which I why I need to get the fuck up out of here! "You have fun with that," I say idly, heading back down the stairs. "Thanks for the information, Aria."

"Just be sure to pass on my message. If you survive long enough get to Archangel," she says, laughing slightly, then turns her head slightly to look back over the club. Well, thank Christ that's over. I see the angry batarian give me a glare as I head back down the stairs, but I just ignore him. Bloody try-hard.

Well, that could have gone better. It could have gone a hell of a lot worse, I guess, since I'm still alive and I've got a lead on finding Garrus…but Aria has a fairly good idea I'm from the Citadel, and she's using me to communicate with Garrus. Ah well. It's not like I've locked myself into a contract or anything…and Aria and I are kinda friendly. Even if her 'taking an interest' in me isn't ideal.

I see an asari stripper on a table wink at me, making me awkwardly look away and cast my eyes around the rest of the club. Man, this place is going to take some getting used to…kinda glad I've got the helmet up, because my expression would give way too much away. Just because I feel like a nervous kid on the inside doesn't mean I need to go showing it to everyone around here. Looking _away_ from a winking asari stripper would probably label me as some kind of freak.

The DJ in Afterlife starts up Moar Ghosts N' Stuff just as I head back into the flame corridor, and I'm almost tempted to hang back and take in the atmosphere. But no. I've got my mission, got the location, and know what deal's going down. Now all that's left is to hang around at the location, wait for the deal to start, and help Garrus and co. out when they start shooting. Missing the deal because I was listening to Deadmau5 wouldn't be the best way to start my Omega career…especially if I had to go back to Aria for another lead. Hell no.

A blast of relatively cool air hits me as I step back into the permanent night, and glance over at the krogan bouncer holding the annoying human by the collar as I start to walk slowly in the general direction of the spaceport location.

Knife? Check.

Handgun? Check.

Sniper rifle? Check.

Misguided sense of optimism? Check.

Going in way over my head? Check.

Time to kick ass and eat ice cream. And I'm all out of ice cream.

**A/N: Here we go! After five chapters, will Ian _finally _fire a gun next chapter? Will he re-unite with Garrus? Will some of the new squad get introduced? Will Ian find any ice cream? Answers to those burning questions will be answered next chapter!**

**That's not the last we'll see of Aria, either. She is in the character section of this story for a reason...**

**Thanks for reading, reviewing, and sticking with me so far! With the Citadel epilogue over, we can finally get to the main event.**

**See you next time! **


	6. Ian vs The Archangel

Chapter 6

The Libertines: Don't Look Back Into the Sun

**September 23****rd****, 2184  
****10:34pm, Omega time  
****Private Blue Suns spaceport and warehouse**

I sigh slightly, resting my head back against the wall I've been sitting against for hours on end now. Aria did say the deal was going down tonight, which was useful…unfortunately, the fact she wasn't able to specify a time has been rather annoying. I've been waiting here since that conversation I had with her, helmet lights dimmed so I don't give away my position, but I shouldn't even worry about that. There's not been anyone around to see anything.

The warehouse located next to the spaceport has thrown me off a bit, though.

Maybe the red sand got delivered in a few hours ago…and they're storing it in that warehouse until the deal happens. Makes sense, I guess. Not that it's my problem. All I need to do is wait until the mercs actually show up, get into a good tactical position, and wait for Garrus and his squad members to show up.

That's got me really curious, actually. I think there was twelve on the squad altogether…but I don't know any names. He mentions a batarian tech expert, and a salarian demolition man who he suspected was ex-STG, but no personalities, and they remained anonymous. So, introductions ought to be interesting. Hopefully we'll all get along, anyway. Though given that we're on Omega, and the squad members want revenge on the merc groups, something tells me it might not be the happiest bunch of people I've ever met.

Then again, I'm ready to fight the merc groups, and I'm not a _totally _miserable bastard. So there might be hope yet. Even if I don't have a particularly strong personal stake in this, except for wanting to reunite with Garrus.

Oh, shit, I do know one squad member's name…Sidonis. Ooh, that's going to be awkward seeing him. To say the least. I mean, running into an ex-girlfriend is awkward. Compared to that, seeing Sidonis is a fucking tragedy. Though he did work with Garrus fine before the betrayal, it seems, and he gave up the information because he feared for his life…so maybe he won't be all bad. I'll just have to wait and see. It's not like I can warn Garrus about him straight away, because he'll just turn around and kill Sidonis pre-emptively. And he might be useful.

Damn, I'm getting ahead of myself. Still have to survive this, first. If anything even happens around here-

Right on cue, I hear the sound of voices, and the clang of boots on metal flooring, coming from the direction of the warehouse entrance. Shit, here we go…I move up into a crouching position, keeping low behind my wall and peeking around the side of it, trying to ignore the cramping pain in my leg from sitting still too long. I can faintly make out five mercenaries, all Blue Suns…a sharp laugh cuts through the air, showing they're obviously joking around.

Not a care in the world. If this was the Citadel, these guys would be shitting themselves, expecting C-Sec to come through a wall and arrest them or something. Around here, nothing. Not even caution. Either these guys haven't heard of Archangel, or they think he's just a myth.

Either way, this is going to end badly for them.

One of the mercs fiddles with the door for a second, then the lock symbol on it changes from red to green, and it slowly begins to slide open. I squint a bit, trying to make out the warehouse's contents…but the mercenaries are in and the door starts closing before I can make anything out, or get the zoom function of my visor working. Fuck. Looks like the deal is going down in the warehouse, after all…which means I should probably get a better vantage point.

Strolling through the front door probably isn't the best idea, but the building has a ton of windows flanking the sides of it. It's spread over more than one floor, as well…so if I sneak through one of the high windows, I should be able to watch and help out when it's needed. The warehouse looks easily climbable, as well, boxes of waste and other stuff strewn around outside, along with an architecture that seems to utilise a lot of potential handholds and ledges.

Omega's a total urban sprawl, and a free-runner's paradise. From what I can tell, anyway. Flat roofed buildings, all at similar heights, jutted out handholds, fire escapes leading up to higher places, rooftops placed close together…it's absolutely ideal. Especially since, with the squad, on a mission we'll have to stay hidden and be able to move around quick. This whole place is contusive to that kind of warfare.

I rise to my feet, trying to shake some life into my legs as I jog quietly towards the side of the warehouse. I'm gonna need them strong for climbing…the window is pretty high up. A fall from up there wouldn't kill me, but it might break a bone or seven. Still, I need to move in now, before any more mercs show up. The smaller the number of guards, the easier this is gonna be. Besides, they probably haven't had time to get organised yet.

Anyway, I can see a simple climbing route up. I take a quick run at the warehouse wall, jumping up and planting one foot against it, then pushing myself upwards slightly and reaching for the slightly jutted out ledge running all the way around the building, a few metres off the ground. Within jumping distance, anyway.

My fingers scrape the edge…but I can't get a good hold, and I curse quietly as I hit the floor again. Still, I'd rather miss a ledge down here than ten metres up, and actually getting this first hand-hold ought to be the hardest part of the climb.

Just gotta go into the jump a little faster…I run at it again, this time getting my initial jump higher before I kick down with the foot I plant on the wall. It gives me more than enough height to grab on, and I tense both my feet against the wall to take the pressure off my hands. Perfect! I almost wish I wasn't wearing the armour, since it's weighing me down a fair bit…but need to preserve anonymity. At least, for now.

There's a pipe leading up to the highest floor over to my left…so I start to shimmy over there, using my feet to 'walk' across the wall while my hands remain on the small ledge. Just put one in front of the other, rinse and repeat. Good thing the armour covers my hands, cos this would sting like a bitch otherwise. The edge of what I'm holding onto looks pretty damn sharp…

It doesn't take long for me to reach the pipe, or ascend it…but the last step is the problem. I reach out for the window ledge, but my fingers can only scrap the wall a few centimetres away from it, no matter how hard I stretch. Damn it! I hate only being 5'-7"!

Looks like I'm gonna have to hop the gap, and…I take a quick glance down, then snap my head straight back up again. Jesus Christ, it looks a lot higher from up here than it did down there. Maybe it was a little naïve of me to assume the drop wouldn't kill me, because it sure as hell looks like it might now. Why do I have these stupid fucking ideas…

It's not a big gap between me and the ledge, though. All I need to do is hop off the pipe slightly, reach out and grab it, then pull myself up and onto it. Only problem is, if I put too much power in, I'll miss and fall, if I get the angle even slightly wrong, I'll miss and fall, and if I don't put enough power in, I'll fall. And look really stupid.

I glance back down again, a sudden kick of adrenaline hitting as I do so. It's not that I have a fear of heights…but I don't exactly love them, either. Kinda like how I don't have a fear of tigers, as such, yet I wouldn't go and hug one.

Oh, godammit, I'm using analogies to distract myself from the task at hand. It's just a little fucking hop. And I don't want to be hanging around here when Garrus and co. show up. That'd be embarrassing. Even worse if any mercs show up and spot me, because then I'll be embarrassed _and _dead.

Here goes nothing. I tense my legs back slightly, keeping my eyes on the ledge…and push of slightly, immediately thrusting both my hands outwards. There's the horrible moment of weightlessness, the sinking feeling in the stomach as gravity starts to kick in…then my fingers touch the edge and I hang on, scrabbling with my legs for a purchase against the wall, gasping from shock, adrenaline and fear. This kind of stuff is so much better when you're harnessed in…

I manage to scramble up onto the far, far too narrow window ledge, pressing right up against the frame as I fiddle with omni-tool to hack it open. Just open the module, and…oh, it's unlocked already. That's convenient. Almost like they want me to break in here. I set the mechanism to slide slowly open, then clamber in once it's done.

The warehouse isn't anything special. I'm on a balcony that rings all the way around the upper floor. Crates are scattered around the wide, open and dimly lit area in the center, a couple of empty boxes strewn about. Nothing that looks too organised, anyway…and nothing anyone seems particularly bothered about. You'd think they'd store red sand a little more carefully, especially if there's a deal going down.

I sneak forwards, moving around the balcony area to look for a ladder down, and a better vantage point to see what's going on. Where the hell are those mercs at? Five of them came in here, but I can't hear or see any of them…which strikes me as seriously odd. Maybe there's a secret base below the warehouse or something? No, that seems a little too James Bond for the merc groups.

This is barely even a warehouse. There are shelves everywhere, but they're mostly empty, and it doesn't look they're storing anything important at all. Okay, something seems seriously off about this. Did Aria screw me over with the location or something? Maybe I just came in too ear-

With a sudden lurch, the section of the metal floor under my feet completely gives way, and I crash down with a yell of fear onto the balcony below…which subsequently collapses too, depositing me onto the floor, cursing in pain and clutching at my back. What the shit? My heart is racing from shock at the fright that gave me…and the pain in my back is excruciating. So, a warehouse that doesn't seem to have anything in it, and has fucked up flooring. How the hell could this get any worse?

Five separate flashlights suddenly turn on in my face, temporarily dazzling me…and when my eyes finally adjust, I see five Blue Suns mercenaries, standing in a ring around me. All pointing weapons at my head.

Oh. That's how. Fuck.

"Don't even think about moving," one, from the look of his helmet a turian, growls from in front of me. I stay stock still, quickly taking in the situation. Five armed mercenaries, two humans, one batarian and two turians. Even if I was armed and up, I wouldn't fancy these odds. They were obviously lying in wait under the balcony where I couldn't see them, and the collapsing floors just _happened _to drop me right in front of them, so…

"This was a trap," I groan, and the laughter from the surrounding mercs proves that theory completely correct. Shit…I'm in trouble now. "What happened to the red sand deal?"

"It got postponed," one chuckles, then kicks me in the side. Even through the armour, the blow makes my back arch instinctively in pain as I let out a quick gasp. I think I can see how this is gonna go. There's got to be an out here…"We got a tip-off someone was looking for Archangel. Someone with a lot of knowledge about him. And we even got told that he was coming right to this warehouse."

May as well try something here… "Ah, this appears to be some horrible misunderstanding. See, I was just hanging about here, not looking for Archangel. This is all obviously some kind of mix-up."

None of the guns get lowered.

"I guess that was kind of a long shot," I sigh, then yell as one of the turians puts his foot on my chest and starts pressing down. Godammit that fucking hurts! I try to push it off with one hand, but that does shit-all.

"You tryin' to make jokes here?" one of the humans says, as the turian keeps pushing. My breaths are short and ragged, and even breathing hurts. I squirm around slightly, trying to get out from under the foot…but I'm not going anywhere. Especially with all those guns. "You know how many problems Archangel has given us? How many of my friends he's killed? Huh?"

"Maybe you're just in the wrong line of work," I cough, feeling blood in my mouth somehow. Damn it, I think I bit my tongue at some point…the human laughs mockingly, then delivers another quick kick to my side. I let out a proper shout this time, curling up slightly, but at least it gets the turian's foot off my ribs.

I gulp in lungfulls of air as the human starts talking again, trying to regain as much energy as I can. "As far as we're concerned, it's time for payback, ya know? And that little head of yours, inside that tin can, is gonna give us all the information we need to get it."

"Go fuck yourself," I hiss, pain and anger clouding my mind too much to think of a witty comeback. They knew I was coming…shit, Aria sold me out! I should've known I couldn't fucking trust her!

"The only person getting fucked here is you," the batarian grunts.

Every single head in the place turns to look at him.

"Metaphorically, obviously," he grumbles. "We're going to get that information from you, human. You can tell us now, and we'll make it quick." He readies his pistol for effect. "Or, we'll torture it out of you and hang your corpse out for the vorcha. Make a fucking decision."

I stare down the barrel of the gun, and time seems to slow as I think everything through. I can't tell them about Garrus. If they find out anything about him, it could lead to him getting killed. And I wouldn't just lose a best friend. We'd lose the entire galaxy. If he dies…the timeline would be done. Screwed up. I wouldn't just be handing the mercs Garrus's head on a platter, I'd be giving the Reapers exactly what they want too.

And everyone breaks under torture. Even though right now I'd never give anything up about him, ever, eventually they'd get it out of me. And then they'll kill me anyway. So, I've got nothing to lose. I get tortured, give up Garrus, then get killed. Or, I don't tell them anything, and get killed. Only one real choice here, isn't there?

I stare back around at all the mercs, sighing within the helmet. This isn't how I wanted to go out. But I underestimated Omega, and it's made me pay. Sent me straight into a trap. Five mercs…if I do a kip-up, my shields should last long enough for me to take one or two down with me. More of a hope than just giving up, anyway.

Looks like I've finally bitten off more than I can chew. But if I'm going down, I'm going down fighting. Knowing that it'll keep everything else safe.

Tali…I'm sorry.

"I'll refer you back to my previous statement," I hiss. "Go fuck yourself."

The batarian leans back with his pistol, presumably to smack me, and I tense my hands against the ground to leap up. Here goes-

There's the sudden sound of breaking glass, and I see a small, cylindrical object come flying down near all of us, bouncing along and rolling into the foot of one of the mercs. We all stare at it…and it only takes me a second to realise what it is.

Flash grenade.

I slam a finger into the helmet console on my wrist, deactivating the helmet's visor and sound amplifiers, then bury my head into the ground as my vision gets plunged into darkness. This is gonna sting…

There's a white flash, even with my eyes firmly closed and the HUD turned off, and the concussion still pierces through my ears, albeit at a manageable level. I power up the suit again, expecting to see a pistol still primed at me…but instead, two of the mercs (the batarian and one of the humans) are crawling blind on the floor, the other three running out into the center of the warehouse, presumably to avoid the blast. Then they all look back at me. Oh, shi-

There's the all too familiar sound of a sniper rifle being fired, and there's an explosion of blue blood out of one turian's helmet. Okay, definitely time to get the fuck up out of here! I spring up to my feet, ignoring the sharp pain in my back, ribs and side, as I break into a sprint towards the warehouse doors, drawing my pistol with one hand, loosing off a few shots at the mercs as I run.

They're too preoccupied elsewhere, though, trying to shelter from the onslaught of rounds from the windows and upper balconies. And failing miserably. I catch the human trying to use a crate as cover…until it gets shredded under assault rifle fire, as does the man himself. I finally get to the door console, tapping at the buttons furiously. Come on, you mechanical piece of shit, open!

There's a grinding sound as it finally starts to slide open, and I move towards the gap in the middle. Yes! Almost out of-

A sudden force collides into my chest at a huge speed, knocking the wind out of me, but I somehow manage to keep a hold of my pistol as I hit the deck…and a turian in dark red armour lands on top of me.

"Hi?" I say.

They push their handgun against my forehead, just as I manage to lift mine up and place it against their armoured neck. Well, so much for a friendly greeting.

Wait, that helmet…it's turian physiology, definitely, I can tell that from the rest of the armour, but there's virtually no room for the fringe. Fuck, I'll dwell on that later. Right now, this turian seems to be fighting the mercs, so they're an ally.

"I'm not a bad guy here," I gasp, vaguely seeing narrowed eyes behind the helmet. "Don't shoot, okay? I'm on your side! I'm not with the mercs!"

"Of course," a flanging, but definitely female voice says, with the lightest hint of an Australian accent. A _female _turian? With an Australian accent? There'd better be an explanation for this, because today keeps getting crazier and crazier… "You just happen to be in a warehouse with five Blue Suns mercenaries, but you happen to have nothing to do with them? If I had a credit for every time I've heard that."

"You'd have one credit?"

The turian growls, ramming her pistol forward slightly, as I push mine into her neck again. "You should drop that," she suggests, though her tone of voice hints that's it's not a friendly request. "There's five of us here, and one of you. And my friends might not be so happy to see you pointing a gun at me."

"Is one of your friends Archangel?" I ask. "Because if he is, I'll drop the gun right now." She nods, warily, and I immediately loosen my grip on the pistol and let it drop. Looks like she's on his squad…so don't want to alienate her any more than I already have. "I need to talk to him. Please."

"You've got a pretty screwed up idea of how to go about meeting someone," she mutters, lifting her head and glancing behind me. "Especially since he's pointing a gun at your head right now."

I roll my head back slightly, making my neck ache as I take in Garrus's helmet, and handgun, upside down. Man, that'd be ironic if _he _shot me…I feel the female climb off me, and I scramble back up to my feet.

The red armoured turian goes and stands next to him, as I take in the five mercs, who have now become corpses, as another turian, a human and a salarian make their way down to the lower floor, helmets turned warily in my direction. Still can't see any faces…guess that'll happen soon enough. "You know," I mutter, climbing to my feet, "I'm getting really, really sick of having guns pointed at my head today. This has to be like the third time now."

Garrus clearly doesn't recognise my voice, or if he does he isn't sure enough to lower the gun. "Where did you get that armour?" he growls. Yep, hasn't quite twigged on it yet. "Melanis, is he one of the mercs?" He glances over at the female turian when he says that. Melanis, is it? Ah, we're already getting acquainted…

"I got it off a friend of a friend," I shrug. "You still haven't recognised me? I'm hurt, man."

There's a slight pause, then Garrus finally starts to lower the pistol and takes a step forward. "Wait…Ian? Is that you?"

"About fucking time," I chuckle. The helmet slides off my face and back into the armour, just as Garrus removes his helmet with a talon, and the two of us grin widely at each other. "How many people do you know with this armour suit, who just _happen _to have my voice?"

"I didn't think it would really be you," he gasps, still looking shocked. "I mean…spirits, what are you doing here?"

"It's kind of a long story. Maybe when we're out of a mercenary controlled warehouse, with reinforcements possibly on the way, I'll tell you."

We both stand there for a few seconds, smiling away, then take quick steps forward and break into a _manly _hug. God, I've missed him…it's crazy, but just seeing him again makes me feel a whole lot safer. Even with all the stuff that's happened on Omega, it kinda feels like everything might just turn out alright now we've finally met up again. "Some red sand deal, huh?" I say, as we finally break apart.

"Yeah," he nods. "Damn it, they must have known we were coming, moved it somewhere else and set this up as a trap for us…"

"Trap for me," I correct him. "I asked Aria T'Loak for information about you, she told me something was going down here, and that you'd probably show up. Someone tipped of the mercs I was coming, though, so they turned it into this." I don't think I'll mention it being Aria _just _yet…besides, something doesn't quite add up about her betraying me. "You could have showed up a little earlier, mind. I mean, I had it under control, but…"

Garrus laughs properly at that. "That means you were probably about to get shot." I nod. "Though, seeing you here…well, I supposed this wasn't a wasted trip after all. Even if we didn't get the red sand."

"I'm flattered to be the consolation prize," I grin, until a sudden cough from Melanis knocks me off my rapport with Garrus.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she says, sounding a little snippy, "but who _is _this guy?" Ah, obviously referring to me there…

I step forward and hold out a hand for her to shake. "Ian Shaw. Detective, athlete, soldier extraordinaire." I faintly hear Garrus sigh from behind me.

"Just ignore him, Melanis," he chuckles. "Butler, Weaver, Sidonis, we don't need the helmets any more. At least not until we get out of here. Have you called Vortash for pick-up?"

"ETA three minutes," the human says, Scottish accent behind his voice. Sweet! Well, he's definitely not Sidonis, so it's got to be Butler or Weaver. "Are you not gonnae introduce us to this Shaw kid, Garrus?"

The turian glances over at me, then back at the rest of the squad, who've all removed their helmets now. The Scottish human looks in his thirties, with a calm, focused expression set upon his lightly wrinkled face, black hair in a short military haircut rests on top of his head, and his brown eyes rest steadily on my face, obviously looking me up and down. He's got the hook up on weapons, too, shotgun, sniper rifle, pistol, assault rifle, the full deal.

"We've got time until the cruiser gets here," Garrus nods. "Alright. You can tell me what you're doing here later." He looks pointedly at me. Fair enough…I guess this is something of a surprise for him. I didn't even call ahead or anything. Damn, I'm inconsiderate.

"I'm Butler," the human says, striding forward and firmly shaking my hand. He seems to hold it unnecessarily tight…so I squeeze back a little too. Probably a test of character. He seems satisfied, though, smiling slightly and taking a step back. "I'm canny curious to hear how you know Garrus so well."

"We were partners at C-Sec," I explain. "As for how I got over here, it's kind of a long story. Can't tell it in three minutes, anyway."

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," the salarian says. His voice seems slightly deeper than other people in his species…still high-pitched, don't get me wrong, but definitely below the usual range. He's got an _awesome_ scar towards the side of his face, skin a leathery sort of colour, with the same texture to go along with it. He's looking at me curiously, more than anything else. "I'm Weaver."

Huh, maybe this is the ex-STG bloke Garrus talks about…but, if memory serves, he won't want to talk about it if he is. "Nice to meet you," I nod, giving him a quick smile. Weaver doesn't really smile back, but he returns the nod, then puts a finger to his ear and starts to walk away, talking under his breath. Presumably, whoever's driving our ride out of here is on the end of that line…

"Sidonis," the turian says. Oh yeah, I recognise him alright…the voice, the face, everything. "If you're a friend of Garrus, then you're welcome here. Well, amongst our group. The mercenaries might have a slightly more dim view of you." He chuckles a little, then reaches out a talon for me to shake. I'm still kind of taken aback by seeing him, but I manage to compose myself and return the gesture. I was expecting another Butler style strength test, but he just does it normally, smiling at me slightly as he does, mandibles widened a little. He actually seems like an alright guy…

"Tell me about it," I reply. Well, if he's okay for now, may as well just roll with it. "I already had five of them try to kill me in here."

Sidonis folds his arms, looking curious. "Five? How did you make sure they didn't succeed?"

"Flashbangs falling from the sky and running away," I shrug. He laughs at that, while Garrus points me towards the female turian.

"Ian, this is-"

I nod, shooting the female a quick grin, making her scowl back slightly. "Melanis. I think we've already met."

"Yeah," she mutters. Her accent is really intriguing me…I'll have to ask about that later.

"Do you often drop out of nowhere onto men?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I have the feeling she might not like me…so, may as well wind her up a bit. See if I can loosen her off. "I mean, you're a good looking girl and everything, probably high maintenance, but you shouldn't need to go throwing yourself through doors onto people."

"The only thing high maintenance about me is my weapons," she shoots back. _Damn, _not a bad comeback. "But nice to hear I'm considered good looking. And generally, I don't point guns at men I'm looking to date."

I nod slightly. "Good to know. Anything else you should tell me?"

"You're an idiot."

"I get that a lot."

I hear the sound of a cruiser from outside, making me duck instinctively. Shit, more mercs? Garrus and the rest of the squad don't react, though, Weaver actually smiling as it begins to land outside.

"Vortash is here," Garrus shouts, as the rest of the squad start to move towards the door and out of the building. Vortash must be the pilot, then…with that kind of name, I'm betting a turian. Butler, Sidonis and Melanis are moving out, but not sign of Weaver? Eh? "Weaver!" Garrus shouts again, knocking me off my thoughts. "Have you set the charges?"

Set the charges? Uh-oh. I see where this going…

"We're blowing this place up?" I ask, as Weaver pulls back into the open and nods the affirmative, and the three of us start heading to the door. "Erm…why?"

Garrus laughs a little bit at that, as we move outside the warehouse, and I see the 'cruiser' the squad uses. It's more like the Kodiak from Mass Effect 2…which makes sense, I suppose. Since he'd have to transport weapons and squad members about, an ordinary car wouldn't quite cut it. "It's Blue Suns property. If we leave it standing, they'll be able to use it again later. If we blow it up, they can't."

Oh. That's actually fair enough. "You know," I say, clambering into the shuttle and glancing back at the warehouse. "I think I can get behind that kind of logic."

Butler laughs behind me, as Weaver pulls out a detonator and the Kodiak suddenly takes off, making me lurch to the side. "You need to get behind it," Sidonis mutters. "This is how life works around here."

Weaver jabs down on the detonator, sending the roof of the of warehouse hurtling off in a ball of flame, debris exploding outwards and spreading across the spaceport. The walls of the place just crumple, crashing down into a rough pile of rubble where the warehouse used to be. Perfectly controlled explosion. This Weaver guy knows what he's doing. Impressive…

Garrus obviously notices the amazed look on my face, mandibles widening in a toothy grin as he looks at me. "You guys are professional," I say admiringly.

"Yeah," the turian laughs. "Get used to it, Ian. This is your new life."

He's right. I've already made an enemy of the mercs…and now I've met up with Garrus, I'm gonna have to start helping them out. There's a war going on here, between him and the mercenaries, and I've gone and landed myself slap bang in the middle of it. I've already been betrayed once, almost killed, and I've been here for less than a day. What a place.

"Welcome to Omega," Melanis says, as the cruiser starts hurtling away from the scene.

**A/N: Now we're in business! The rest of the squad will be introduced shortly, but Ian's finally been recruited. So now we can look at all the crazy stuff Archangel does on Omega. Yay!**

**So, Aria seems to have betrayed Ian, even if he thinks something seems off about it. That'll be looked into next chapter too...it's all go!**

**Unfortunately, my house is being redecorated at the moment and I need to help out with that (along with other stuff) so I might take a _little _while longer than usual to put up next chapter. We'll see, though. Hopefully not.**

**It's over 200! (reviews). Amazing as always, thank y'all so much!**

**Byebye!**


	7. Ian vs The Squad

Chapter 7

Primal Scream: Can't Go Back

"How the hell did you afford this place?" I ask, throwing my eyes around the base as Garrus and Butler grin at me. It wasn't a long shuttle ride over, five minutes, but Vortash wasn't exactly hanging about. There's a vague sort of order to traffic on Omega, which of course he merrily ignored, sweeping us between buildings and through cruisers to Archangel's base. I thought Garrus was a crazy driver, but he has absolutely nothing on Vortash. He's a turian, like I guessed, but he didn't exactly wait around for a chat when we hit the ground. I'm sure I'll talk to him later, though.

I'm finally here. The house on the end of the bridge. The whole setting is all too familiar, the long run to funnel any enemies, house layout, with the big central room and smaller ones branching off. Fortunately, it is a lot bigger than it looked in game, with various rooms for all the squad members and all that good stuff.

Garrus has called all the other squad members into the central room, though, and I'm just staring around in awe at actually being in the place. Since there's not any mercenaries tearing the place up, and it's not a warzone, it's surprisingly homely. There's a big ring of cushioned couches and seats, big screen mounted on the wall, open plan kitchen off to the side…it's pretty sweet. Garrus has always been well off…but seeing as he left me a lot of money, he definitely isn't _this _rich.

"It belongs to Melanis," Garrus chuckles, indicating for me to take a seat. "She bankrolled this whole operation, at least from the start."

"You didn't contribute at all?" I ask teasingly. "Not very gentlemanly, Garrus. I expected more from you."

The turian looks kind of embarrassed at that, fringe flushing blue slightly, and a laughing Butler steps in to cover the answer. "We did our best. But none of us have her kind of money, and she was one of the first people Garrus recruited around here. It's her house."

Melanis owns this place by herself? Holy crap… "She's loaded," I comment, unable to think of anything else. Seems kind of weird someone this rich and successful would help with this kind of vigilante operation…especially since most of the money around here is made from the merc groups.

"Nae shit," Butler laughs. "Lucky for us. I wouldn't have signed up if we'd been fighting out of some shite little shack."

"Thanks, Butler," Garrus mutters, shaking his head slightly. The human just shrugs apologetically. Looks like the two of them get along well…ooh, I hope Butler hasn't replaced me or something. Though seeing how happy Garrus was to see me again, and everything we've been through, I doubt that. Besides, he's allowed other friends. It's not like we're a couple and he's cheating on me or something.

"Where'd she get the money, though?" I ask. "I wouldn't think vigilante justice has the greatest pay."

Garrus looks a little uncomfortable at that question, shifting awkwardly in his seat. "She inherited it off her father. I…erm, maybe you should talk to her about it, if you want to. It's not the kind of story someone else should tell." Oh, that doesn't sound good. If her father died, I'm betting that has something to do with her wanting revenge on the merc groups. That's really sad, actually…maybe I won't bring that up with her. Not straight away, anyway, build up some trust first. Even if Melanis does seem to find me rather irritating at the moment, but I'm sure it's friendly banter. Right?

There's the sound of several pairs of feet on the stairs, and I swivel my head slightly to see a procession of people coming down from the upper floor towards us, almost all of them looking at me with a mixture of friendliness and curiosity. Let's see…

Weaver's there, looking as serious as ever, but does concede a small nod of greeting on making eye contact with me. Melanis is there, too…glaring. Hmm. Vortash looks impartial, but Sidonis, walking next to him, cracks me a proper smile upon making eye contact. I'm still struggling to believe how friendly and nice he is…I was almost expecting him to be obviously evil, as the betrayer, but he seems like a genuinely good guy. There's got to be something deeper behind it all…guess I've got a while to get to know him, so I can work finding that out.

Then there's the other squad members I don't know yet. We've got a batarian, a drell, two more turians and a salarian. I give them all a passing glance over…then do a double take on one of the turians. Wait a minute, I _do _know him! At least, I think I do. Something about those facial markings, a dark crimson spread in subtle streaks across the nose and mandibles…no, it can't be. What the hell would he be doing h-

"Ian!" the turian shouts, bounding down the stairs and opening his mandibles wide in a smile, throwing his arms open. "Now, this is what I call a loyal customer. Following me to Omega."

Oh my God! "Laet!" I say, grinning wildly as I get to my feet, the turian's smile getting even wider as I do so, grabbing his talon in my hand and slapping him on the back. "What are you doing here?"

"Garrus asked me to come along," he chuckles, returning the back-slap and almost knocking the wind out of me. I always forget how strong turians are… "He thought he'd need someone to look after armour and weapons for the operation he had planned, and naturally, he asked only the best."

"Good to see you haven't changed," I laugh. Still a cocky bastard…but I like that. "You were making a mint on the Citadel, though. Why move?"

Laet glances over at Garrus. "He can be very persuasive. Made me realise I'd actually be helping people, doing something with my life rather than just making suits of armour. He made me realise I had bigger ambitions."

I look the turian in the eye, frowning slightly. Laet never seemed to have this side to him before… "The Alliance pulled your N7 armour contract, didn't they?"

"Spirits, did you tell him?" Laet shouts at Garrus, who barks out a laugh and shakes his head. "Alright, fine. I was low on work anyway, this gave me a job. But I am serious about helping people here. If anyone can pull this off, it's Garrus. Or Archangel." He shakes his head, smirking slightly, and looks over at the other turian again. "Have you told him my Omega name yet?"

I raise an eyebrow at that, as Garrus shakes his head, smiling slightly. "Laet thought it was only fair he got a nickname too, since I've got Archangel from the locals."

"And what did you settle on?"

"Ripper," Laet says proudly. I look at him for a few seconds, then burst out laughing, making the turian narrow his eyes at me. "What? It'll strike fear into the hearts of the mercenaries!"

"It's probably just because I know you," I giggle, "but it doesn't fit you. Like, at all. Do you even _do _field missions?"

"No," Laet replies, sounding a little embarrassed. "I've got my turian army training, but I've never been much good in combat. Still, it's only fair I got the name, and…look, what did you call us down here for, anyway?" The rest of the squad have taken their seats, some watching our little reunion with bemused expressions, others looking rather bored with the whole affair. Already seeing some personality splits here…

Garrus smiles slightly, looking over at me. "I thought I should introduce him to everyone, now he's on the team. This is Ian Shaw."

I smile awkwardly, taking in the looks from around the room. The one remaining turian that I don't know seems happy enough to see me, as do Weaver and the other salarian, though the former keeps his expression perfectly controlled. Friendly, but not too friendly. So far, I think he might end up being the squad badass…

The batarian doesn't look too pleased, though, glaring at me slightly, and Vortash barely even makes eye contact, just looking down at the floor. They might be the more serious members of the group…at least Melanis is looking at me, albeit with a slightly annoyed expression. Still, she hasn't tried to gut me or anything yet, so at least that's something.

The drell surveys me with a rather calm expression, bowing his head slightly in greeting as I look over at him. His expression is definitely softer than Thane's, more of a soft edge to his eyes and nose…and he actually has a lightly blue scaled face and body, with a similar dark coloured indentation around the neck area to all drell, and hints of a black scale colouring towards the back of his head. I'm not exactly sure what old drell look like…but something about his face seems quite youthful. I'll have to ask about that later, anyway, since he seems friendly.

Sidonis is still smiling reassuringly, as is Butler, and I already know Laet is happy enough to see me, considering our greeting and the fact he's sitting next to me. So, including Garrus, that's…eleven people. I'm pretty sure he says in game that there's twelve in his squad…but we've only been here a month. He obviously just hasn't recruited the last member yet.

"You've already met Weaver, Butler, Sidonis, Melanis, Laet and Vortash," Garrus says, "so, everyone else…"

"Erash," the remaining turian says, flashing me a quick smile. "Nice meeting you." Come to think of it, I wonder what roles these people actually play on the squad? I can ask Garrus later, or the squad individually. I want to get to know all of them on an individual basis anyway, so I guess I can do it then.

"Mierin," the salarian next to Weaver says, sounding a little nervous. He's got a green skin pattern, with obvious scales on it, rather than the more leathery texture of Weaver's…and the regular, more high pitched and nasal voice.

The drell inclines his head at me again, and I do the same in return. "Montague," he says, slightly rough, deep voice rolling around the room. There's less of the sort of dry aspect that Thane has to his words, presumably because of the Kerpal's…and Montague accent is a little different, too, though I can't quite place it. "Good to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," I say, smiling a little bit at how proper he speaks. I do quite like that, though. I can see Montague and I getting along, that's for sure.

Only the batarian is left, now, though he's still not saying anything, just looking me up and down. Silent type…doesn't exactly look the friendliest person. Then again, I've never really met a batarian with that trait. "This is Grundan Krul," Garrus finally says, getting rid of the awkward atmosphere spent waiting for the batarian to talk. "He's not much of a people person."

"You don't say," I mutter, which makes Grundan's head snap up. Oh, shit…

"How do you know we can trust him?" he says to Garrus, typically deep batarian voice with an angry edge to it. And, seeing as he has a problem with me being here already, he might be a bit of a stretch to get along with. Then again, I managed it with Wrex…though he wasn't this bad.

"You can trust him because I say you can," Garrus immediately replies, obviously riled by the question. "We've been through a lot together."

Grundan just grunts disdainfully. "That's not a reason."

"Yes, it is," Garrus growls, raising a talon and pointing it at me. "That man over there has saved my life, brought down serial killers, defeated krogan battlemasters in combat, helped save the entire galaxy, and he's the closest thing I have to a brother. I don't just trust him, I trust him with my life. Is that clear?"

A hush descends over the room for what feels like an achingly long period of time, before Grundan finally nods his head slowly and settles back in his seat slightly. Unfortunately, thanks to Garrus's amazing bit of melo-drama there, every head in the room is now looking at me. Maybe I should say something… "He is exaggerating a little," I shrug. "Maybe not about the friendship, but I had a lot of help with all the other stuff."

"You still did it, though," Weaver suddenly says. "Just because you were part of a team doesn't take away from individual glory." I guess he does kind of have a point there…and I'm beginning to see why Garrus suspected he was ex-STG, when he says something like that.

"If Garrus trusts you, then you're alright by me," Butler adds, and there's a round of nods from around the room, although some are a little more reluctant than others. This must be what passes for an initiation, then. They trust me. And I can't really ask for much more than that.

Garrus seems pleased enough by the reaction, clearing his throat and getting to his feet. "I just thought you should all know about a new squad member. You can all go back to what you were doing now. From what I know of him, Ian will probably annoy you all individually." There's some laughs with that, along with Melanis muttering 'too right', as the crew gets to their feet and start to disperse, some forming circles to talk, others like Grundan heading off alone. Where to start…

"That went about as well as I could have hoped," Garrus says from behind my shoulder, making me jump slightly and turn to face him. "They all seem to like you enough, anyway."

"Except Grundan and Vortash," I point out.

The turian just shakes his head, frowning a little. "Don't worry about them; they're like that with everyone. Now we're alone, do you want to tell me how you got here in the first place?" He still doesn't know, does he? Whoops…

"Oh yeah, that," I chuckle. "It's a bit of a long story, so I'd better explain what happened after you left…"

#########

"My father wanted me back on the Citadel?" Garrus asks, then lets out a laugh as I nod my head. "He must have been _really _desperate not to lose face…and he commissioned C-Sec to get me back?"

"Yep," I nod. "I don't think Pallin was too impressed by that, seeing as he basically used it as an excuse to get rid of me. He was right to do that, though. I should have just came here with you in the first place."

Garrus shrugs, a small slipping onto his face. "Probably. At least Pallin helped out eventually, though. He wasn't as bad as I thought after all."

"He's stuck between doing the right thing and what the Council tells him," I frown. "But he turned out good here, that's the main thing. If anyone's going to keep C-Sec on track, it'll be him."

"He managed to keep us in line," Garrus chuckles. "The rest of C-Sec should be easy by comparison." He's got a good point there, actually…Pallin and I did get along, but I imagine he won't have been _too _sad to see the back of me. Ah well.

"So, that's my story," I say abruptly, looking at the turian. "What about you? If I'm gonna be involved in this operation, I need to know how it works."

He grins slightly, then gestures over to a seat. "I guess that's fair. You've got up to all kinds of stuff, only fair I tell you about what we've got here too. I wasn't planning on recruiting any more into the squad, actually…but I suppose you're an exception."

"Thanks," I laugh. "And here I was thinking you'd just throw me out onto the street."

"Don't push your luck," he mutters, smiling. "Everyone I've recruited has something against the mercs on this place. I either found them, or they managed to get my attention, like you did." Oh, great, I've _already _got questions…

"Everyone has something against the mercs? Even Laet?"

Garrus frowns at that. "It's not my business to talk about people's reasons to fight. But yes, Laet's got a personal stake in this." Intriguing…but it's not fair to pry. If Laet wants to tell me, he'll do it on his own accord.

"And recruitment? If people managed to find you, what's to stop the merc groups?"

"Well, they didn't directly find me," he explains. "But people around here can get themselves noticed by the merc groups. Some of the squad were already taking revenge, others were starting to take a public stance against them. If you keep an ear to the ground, it's not hard to hear who's against the mercenaries. I listened, and picked the best. Just like Shepard recruiting against Saren." He's obviously following her leadership already, then…though I guess Shepard was his mentor as well as lover, so that's not exactly a surprise.

"Alright," I nod. "So, how does the squad work? Not everyone was around when you attacked that warehouse."

"We have different groups for different operations," Garrus replies. "People on the squad have their own specialities, and taking all eleven of us on a mission would be impractical, especially if it went against our skill sets. So, there's specialised teams within the squad."

Ah, I think I see… "So, you've got an infiltration squad, one for assaults, that sort of thing?" The turian's smile grows wider across from me.

"You're still as sharp as you were before," he chuckles. "That's exactly how it works. Different things require different approaches. Sometimes we're looking to destroy a target, sometimes obtain information or silently take down targets. The squad has the skillbase to do them all."

"Sounds like you've got this all planned out," I say. He really does, as well. I mean, I was hardly expecting him to just Leeroy Jenkins it on every mission with no plan whatsoever, but splitting the squad into specialist teams is clever. And makes a hell of a lot of sense. "So, where would you want me to work?"

Garrus looks thoughtful for a second, looking me up and down. "I was thinking sniper support," he mutters, "but we've already got Erash, and he's the best shot I've ever seen. And I've got people better suited to full assault, like Butler and Sidonis…and Grundan's a genius with tech."

"Way to make me feel shit, man."

"Just being honest," he laughs. "You're light on your feet, though. Agile, a good shot, tech savvy…" Garrus stares at the ground for a few seconds, obviously thinking it over, then starts nodding his head. "That might work."

Eh? "What might work?"

"You're best suited to infiltration," the turian announces. "I know you've proven yourself on the battlefield, so you'll still be useful in assaults and proper fights, but you've got the right frame and skill-set for this kind of thing." My first instinct is to say 'no'…but, actually, when I think about it he has a point. I do prefer taking a silent approach rather than just barging around, if possible, and I've done similar things before with fairly good success. It makes sense…

"Who's on the infiltration squad?" I ask.

Garrus chuckles slightly. "You'll like this. Normally, Mierin and Melanis, along with Grundan or Weaver if we need tech or explosives." Melanis? Oh, of _course _she would be on the same thing as me… "Erash and I might be on sniper support for some missions, too, in case anything goes wrong."

"Ah, nothing ever goes wrong on my missions," I say sarcastically, making Garrus chuckle. "You'd have to get someone to show me the ropes, though."

"Melanis can do that," he nods, smiling slyly. He would pick her, the bastard. "You two already know each other. And I'll talk to Laet about some equipment for you."

Equipment? "What's wrong with my current stuff?" I ask.

"You might struggle to sneak around it that thing," he points out. "It's too heavy. You need lighter gear, and that pistol of yours is worthless. Laet can make one more suited to the job."

"If you say so," I mutter, a little reluctantly. I do like this armour…but I suppose it'll still be useful if I go on a mission not suited to stealth. Hopefully Laet'll carry the design over.

The design. The incredibly distinctive design. Oh, fuck.

"I just realised," I say, feeling like I should facepalm. "All the mercs are going to be looking for a human in dragon armour, now."

"Good," Garrus nods.

I'm sorry, what? "Good?"

"They're all looking for a turian in blue armour, with an eagle on the arm," he laughs. "We want them to be scared of us, Ian. The whole point is getting known. Mercenaries start to fear the turian in blue, the human with the dragon on his chest. We become myths, terrors, lurking in the shadows, and the mercenary groups are afraid because they don't know when they're going to strike. Distinctive armour helps with that. Besides, you won't be wearing it normally, so if you go out in normal clothes they won't know who you are."

That…makes an awful lot of sense, actually. Bloody hell, he really has thought this through. I guess a good comparison here would be Batman. The Christopher Nolan one, not the camp one. "Good point," I nod. "Well, that's one less worry off my mind. What does everyone else on the squad do, then?"

"Butler and Sidonis are the main assault guys," Garrus explains, "Vortash is the pilot, he doesn't do get involved on the ground, and Laet stays here and looks after equipment. Same for Montague. He's the medic. Then you've got Grundan on tech, you already know Weaver is for explosives…then Melanis and Mierin, who are on infiltration. I lead the assault team, provide sniper and tactical support if other squads are out, and Erash is our sniper."

Ah, so the drell is the medic! "Something tells me I'll be getting to know Montague well, then, whether I want to or not." Garrus laughs at that.

"You are injury prone," he admits. There's a small silence, then he opens his mandibles slightly, looking worried. "I'm not going after Aria, by the way." Oh yeah…I did mention in the story that she'd told me to pass on the message, he just never replied. Until now, anyway. "She's the only thing keeping this place together. It's a dictatorship…but at least it's a benevolent one." He lifts a talon to his chin, then shakes his head slightly. "But she did betray you. Maybe she might be an issue, after all…"

"Her betrayal doesn't add up, though," I mutter, thinking it through for about the seventh time now. "Every time I think about it, the less it makes sense. You're helping her by keeping the mercs away…and if she'd wanted to stop me, she could have just done it in Afterlife."

"I don't know how her mind works," Garrus shrugs. "Maybe you said something to piss her off and just didn't notice."

I shake my head. "No, I was polite with her, that can't be-"

Hold the bloody phone. I was polite with her…but there was someone standing and listening to that meeting the whole time who was _definitely _pissed off at me.

That fucking batarian guard.

"What?" Garrus asks, looking shocked at my sudden stop, as I stare in disbelief at the floor. Of _course _it was the batarian! And I'm supposed to be a good detective!

"I know who sold me out, and it wasn't her," I say slowly, getting to my feet. "Aria's people might not be as loyal to her as she thinks."

The turian gives me a look of utter confusion. "I hate it when you go off on tangents like this. What are you talking about?"

"I showed up an overly-aggressive guard of hers," I say, grinning at the revelation. "Aria said herself the merc groups would pay a ton of credits for anyone with information on 'Archangel', so he must have taken the initiative. She's not going to like this. I need to go and see her."

"That's not a good idea," Garrus replies, getting to his feet too. "You don't know it wasn't her. You might just be walking into a trap."

"Believe me, Garrus, I _know _it wasn't her. It doesn't make any sense," I reply. "And if she's got a guard who's leaking information to the mercs, that's bad for all of us, right?" The turian doesn't say anything, just shifts from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Ah, it's because he knows I'm right… "I'll need a helmet and armour suit to disguise myself, though. I don't want her seeing my face."

Garrus looks at me for a few seconds, obviously coming to a decision…before finally nodding. Hurray! "Butler should have a spare armour suit. Vortash can take you over, but I'm staying in the cruiser with him in case anything happens."

"Nice to see you care." Garrus just rolls his eyes at me. "You don't need to worry so much. I can take care of myself."

"Not on Omega," he says, a little darkly. "Get your stuff together, I'll meet you by the cruiser in ten minutes, so go and see Butler. And we're only doing this because I trust your instincts." With that, he strides off towards the stairs, leaving me with a somewhat bemused expression.

I know Omega changes him, but…shit, he already seems a little more abrasive than usual. Then again, even with my prior knowledge of Omega, coming here has been a _massive _change of scene from the Citadel. Maybe this is just what this place does to people…I'll have to try and make sure it doesn't happen to me, anyway.

Then again, when we're dealing with Aria, I can see why he's being cautious. But I'm pretty sure she's on our side, as long as we're useful anyway, and doing her a favour by pointing out a traitor means she might be more inclined to help us out in the future. It might not be the best relationship, but being friendly with the queen of Omega ought to have its advantages.

So, not only have I managed to sign myself up to the most hated group of people on Omega, agreed to work with a female turian who doesn't even like me, and almost been executed within less than twenty-four hours, it looks like I've elected myself our unofficial ambassador to Aria.

It's been one of those days. Time to go top it off.

**A/N: Well, that's the squa****d for you! There'll be some actual in-depth squad conversation next chapter (MtM2 proved rather well you all love the character interaction stuff), along with dealing with Aria's seeming traitor, and some of Laet's new 'equipment'.**

**And yes, Laet returns! This is why I tried to expand his character in MtM2, hahaha. And he does have his personal reason for being on Omega, as do the rest of the characters…but obviously, Ian's got to build some trust before that all starts coming out. And some people are more trusting than others. **

**Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far, and I'll see you next chapter!**


	8. Ian vs The Test

Chapter 8

Travis: Eyes Wide Open

"Thanks for lending me this, Butler," I say, adjusting the gauntlets on my borrowed armour suit slightly. It's a pretty basic model, the kind of thing the Alliance just hands out to new recruits, with its dull grey colour and fairly flimsy structure. Laet would probably cry seeing one of these.

Fortunately, the helmet to go along with it has a small visor for looking out of, which is tinted over from the outside, which keeps my identity safe. Besides, I'm only wearing the thing to preserve anonymity, not to get into a fight. I hope. Unless I've got my guess at the betrayer disastrously wrong…but nothing else makes sense. Whenever you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. And the batarian isn't even improbable, it makes perfect sense. Sherlock Holmes ain't got shit on me.

"Dinnae fash yourself," he chuckles, then glances over at me. "Shit, you probably didn't understand a word of th-"

"Don't worry yourself," I grin. "I was born in Aberdeen, Butler, I still remember some stuff." I roll my shoulders in the armour, testing the suit. It's heavier than I'm used to, but manageable…and it's still giving me free movement. Yep, this ought to work!

The other human looks curious slightly, leaning back against the wall as I reach over for the helmet. "Aberdeen? You've no' got the accent for it."

"Moved to Newcastle before I could get it," I explain. "Still, got relatives up there who kept me right." May as well tell him as much of the truth about my past as I can…and thanks to Shiara, all this stuff is on my records anyway. "Where about are you from?"

"Glasgow," he replies. "Didn't last it there long, though. Always fancied myself getting some action out in the galaxy as soon as I could leave school."

"You didn't bother with qualifications, then?"

He laughs disdainfully a bit at that. "Nah. Getting a Higher in English or some shite like that wasn't gonnae help me shoot people, was it? I've managed for this long, anyway."

"Good point," I laugh. Already, Butler seems like a cool guy…friendly enough, down to earth, and Scottish, which gives him automatic awesome points. "How long have you managed for, then?"

"I'm thirty-nine," he smiles. "I've been managing for a while." Thirty-nine? He looks bloody good for his age, in that case…I had him down as late twenties. That's impressive. Good for him!

"So, you join the Alliance when you left?"

"I can't stand taking orders like that," he says, shaking his head. "Going on some patrol around a colony for the rest of my life, never shooting a gun apart from at the range." He scoffs at the sheer thought. "Load of bollocks. I joined the Blue Suns, saw myself actually doing something. Pay's better going private, as well."

My mind does a double-take as he says that. "You're an ex-merc?"

"Aye, for my sins," he says, smiling sadly. "It was a bad call. A lot of crap happened between me and the Suns, and…well, here I am. Gettin' one back on them." That's a pretty shaky explanation, at best...but presumably he doesn't want to talk about it, which I totally understand. Friendly or not, I did only just meet the guy. "What about you, Shaw? You leave school looking for adventure?"

"No, actually. All this kind of got thrust upon me," I shrug. "I stayed in school until I was eighteen, started university, then packed that in and headed to C-Sec. Didn't see the point finishing my course when C-Sec was what I wanted." That is one problem with my backstory, actually…Shiara put me down as having a degree in law, which isn't true at all. Though I'm sure she thought up some ridiculous explanation for it, so my application looked as good as possible for Pallin.

"And you met Garrus there," Butler says. "I'm takin' a wild guess he got you into all of this. He's told us all about what he did before this, the Battle of the Citadel…"

I shake my head slightly, chuckling. "I bet the way he told it, he was a one man army or something. We were investigating Saren at C-Sec, Garrus wanted to help Shepard out, and…well, I kind of just went with him. We tried C-Sec again after all that, but it wasn't cut out for either of us."

"What the fuck took you so long getting here, then?"

"I took me longer to realise than him," I smile. "I'm here now, anyway, that's the main thing."

"Well, Garrus rates you," he says. "So you ought to be useful. That, or you'll wind up dead in a few days. Omega a deathtrap, and a total shitehole."

"Good thing you're used to that, coming from Glasgow."

"Aw, fuck you, Shaw," Butler laughs, sticking two fingers up at me as I check my omni-tool clock. It's been more than ten minutes since Garrus told me to meet him at the crusier…shit, he's probably getting impatient. Time to go and see if my deduction is right. I don't fancy my chances shooting through Afterlife if it's not.

"I don't want to keep Garrus waiting," I say, gesturing over at the door. "I'll try to not to damage the suit too much."

Butler shakes his head, smiling. "It's my spare, don't worry about it. You may as well be scuddy running in a fight with that thing on."

"I don't remember Scottish slang _that_ well," I reply, raising an eyebrow. The fact these sayings are still around never ceases to amaze me…

"Look it up on the extranet if you're that curious. I'll catch you later, Shaw," he says, lifting up his right hand to give me a wave goodbye. I start to turn around…then look back again when I see a gold band around his fourth finger.

He obviously sees what I'm looking at, since he responds to the question I'm thinking straight away. "Aye, I'm married. Nineteen years now." He got married when he was twenty? Wow, Butler sure as hell didn't hang about…

"Is she not on Omega?" I ask, then realise how fucking dumb that question is. If she's not here with him, it's probably because she's dea-

"She's in Glasgow," he says. Oh. Well, that's not as bad as I thought, thank Christ. "I haven't been in the merc game my whole life. I pissed about on Omega for a few years, met her, then went back and lived a normal life. Like I said before, I'm here to give the mercs what they deserve, then I'm heading back to her."

So, Butler's been out of the game for a while…yet something pulled him back here, from the sounds of it revenge. For him to leave his wife behind, it must be something big…which means he probably won't want to talk about it. Though if it's revenge, it'll probably end up revealing itself soon enough anyway.

"Nice that you've got someone to go back to," I smile, trying to lighten the tone a little. May as well go for some kind of joke… "Though some people say life ends at marriage."

Butler rolls his eyes and sighs at that, but the small grin forming on his face suggests he doesn't mind. That's better. "Dinnae get me started," he says. "I'm serious. Garrus is waiting for you."

"Damn, I keep forgetting," I say. The turian wasn't exactly in the greatest mood when he headed off to the cruiser…and me running late isn't going to help there. I jog to the door of Butler's small room, glancing over my shoulder as it slides open. "Cheers for the armour, Butler!"

"I told you, no worries!" he replies, as the door shuts behind me and I break into a run towards the cruiser, fitting the helmet onto my head as I go.

#########

"So, how are you doing this?" Garrus asks, as the cruiser swoops over the streets below, makeshift houses bathed red in the station's light. "Aria's not just going to let you in there and attack a guard without at least some kind of explanation."

"Then I'll give her one," I shrug, face already concealed behind my helmet, as is his. "First rule of Omega; don't fuck with Aria, and that's exactly what he's done. I don't think I'm the one who needs to be worried."

The turian nods. "I'm not coming in with you, but I'll be in radio contact. Any sign of trouble, I'll move and get you out."

"There won't be any trouble," I sigh. "Seriously, Garrus, we've been over this a few times now-"

"And agreed a contingency doesn't hurt," he interrupts. "It makes me feel better about this, anyway. Do you not like my company any more?"

He does actually have quite a good point there. Even if he's not coming in with me, just having him on the end of the radio does a lot to reassure me about anything that might happen, as weird as that sounds. "Oh, I relish it," I reply, smiling under the helmet. "Though without me blowing up Makos left, right and centre, I always think our banter is missing something. Unless you calibrate anything around here that I can destroy?"

"Nothing for me to actually calibrate on," Garrus replies, shaking his head. "Vortash looks after the vehicles, Laet takes care of weapons and armour."

"I bet that's really tearing you up."

"Hey," he says, trying to sound angry, "it's a legitimate hobby. And it's useful."

"People say that about stamp collecting, too."

"What, now you're discriminating against people who collect stamps as well? I didn't think you'd sink that low, Ian." The bizarre thing is, letters are so rare these days stamp collectors need to be incredibly rich...and those with old collections can actually make a mint.

I laugh at that, settling back into the seat as Garrus starts chuckling along too. He might have gotten a little more serious on Omega…but under the surface he's still the same as always. We just sit in comfortable silence afterwards, watching Omega speed by as Afterlife begins to loom on the horizon, a bright beacon in the gloomy red atmosphere. The whole comfortable silence reminds me of that bit in Pulp Fiction, when Mia says something like;

_That's when you know you've found someone special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence._

"I've missed you, you know," I say suddenly, making Garrus glance over at me. "I know we had the whole bravado reunion in the warehouse and all, but now we're actually here…I just realised I hadn't said that."

He's silent for a few seconds, then nods. "Yeah, I've missed you too. Omega's a bad place, and I need someone I can really trust watching my back."

"You don't trust the others?" I ask, frowning slightly.

"Of course I trust them," Garrus says indignantly. "But I haven't known them for three years. I still don't know why some of them are even fighting."

"Isn't it just good enough that they are? Even if they don't want to share their reasons, they're motivated."

"I guess you're right," he nods. "Everyone has their own stake in this kind of thing, even we did with Saren. And I know I can rely on them, it's just that we go way back. You know that."

I nod my head absent-mindedly at that, unable to help my mind slipping onto Sidonis as he says that. I know Garrus…and if I tell him now, Sidonis is as good as dead, but I can't just let the squad die. Even though he's going to be living in ignorance about this the whole time we're here, I can't tell him until the last possible moment. He'll hate me for it…but it's got to be done. Besides, he can come around. If all of us end up dead through him learning about Sidonis early, or I never tell him at all, that would be even worse. Rock and a hard place…"Yeah," I mutter, mind still not fully on the conversation as the cruiser begins to slow down and descend towards the parking area just short of Afterlife. "I think it's more likely to be you watching my back, anyway. I'm still green around here."

Garrus doesn't respond for a few seconds, then slowly shakes his head. "I don't understand. You're not green, that armour is grey. And your skin colour isn't-"

"It means I'm still new around here," I chuckle, as the cruiser doors start to open. "I don't really know how stuff works in Omega, where I'm going."

"You'll get used to it," he shrugs. "Besides, there's five million less people here than on the Citadel, so that's going to make things a bit easier, right?"

"Yeah, but not everyone on the Citadel was trying to murder us."

"Good point," Garrus admits. "Now, get going. The less time we spend here, the better. Have you got enough money to bribe the guards?"

"Yes, mum," I say sarcastically, climbing out of the cruiser. "See you in a bit." Garrus just growls lightly in reply, presumably because of my last comment. Aw, he's so cute when he's pissed off.

I glance over at the krogan bodyguard…and the human at the front of the queue he's arguing with. Oh, you've got to be shitting me!

"You're pissing me off, human," he growls at the guy. "I don't know what it is. Your persistence, your annoying voice, or your shit excuses."

"Come on then, let me in!" the guy says. "Then you won't have to be bothered about any of them!"

"No," the krogan grunts. "It's principle now. Still haven't decided the reason, though."

Time for me to start the bribe train again… "I think it's a little bit of all of them," I suggest, walking forward with a hundred credits displayed in my hand for the krogan's benefit. "I bet he never thought to do this in the first place."

"No, he didn't," the krogan says, grabbing my money and pointing over his shoulder at the door for me. Looks like I'm clear… "You see, human? That's how Omega works. Now piss off and stop whining."

"Come on, let me in!"

I can't help laughing again as I set off at a quick stride towards the doors into Afterlife's main area. That guy is persistent…and I'm not quite sure why the krogan hasn't just squashed his head yet or something. Maybe it's like a sport for him, I don't know.

The main doors slide open…and an asari's ass is the first thing that faces me, projected onto the big screen, and the real thing facing me from the elevated platform a few metres away. Hello! I blush furiously as I quickly look away, once again grateful for the mask hiding my face. It's not that I don't appreciate it…but the sheer thought of Tali knowing I've been in this place and seen that freaks me out _way _too much to enjoy it.

I quickly skirt around the various patrons towards Aria's booth, taking a glance over the rail to the bar below. There's a turian serving drinks…so I guess that batarian who poisons Shepard isn't hired until later on. Shame. I could have saved the Commander a problem a year and a bit from now if he was there.

Grizz glares at me as I approach…then again, he's not really got much way of remembering me from last time, so I guess this is his customary greeting for just about everyone. What a charming man. "Turn around, human, you-"

"Let's cut the crap," I say quickly. "I've got five hundred credits here. Let me up the stairs."

"No. It'll cost you a thousand."

Wait, what? "A thousand? I thought it was five hundred."

"Used to be," Grizz shrugs. "Inflation. Not my problem."

"100% inflation rate in less than a day?" I ask. "Does Omega even _have _an economy?"

"Do I look like a fucking economist?" Grizz asks angrily. "Just give me the damn money." Bloody thief…I fork out the thousand, and he finally steps to the side. Asshole. I can already see the same batarian guard as I ascend the steps towards Aria…oh, this ought to be fun.

Remarkably, he doesn't pull a gun this time, as Omega's queen turns and looks me up and down, bored expression on her face. "This had better be good," she says simply. "You're the second random human I've had up here in the past two days, and initial curiosity is wearing thin."

"Nope, still the same human," I say, seeing a look of panic flash across the batarian's face as I do. He's not moving for a weapon or anything, though…probably hoping I haven't worked out it's him. Too bad that one look confirmed everything. "Two bits of news for you, Aria."

"Ah!" she says, sly smile returning on her face as she gestures for me to sit down. "You actually survived long enough to meet Archangel. I'm impressed."

"Well, I'm returning my part of the bargain," I nod. "Your information was useful, so I talked to him. He's not coming after you."

Aria nods. "He'd be wise not to. Like I said before, it'd be a shame to kill him, not when he's only just beginning. And the second bit of news?"

"I'm throwing this one in for free, since your info was just _that _good," I add, glancing at the batarian out of the corner of my eye. "You have a leak to the mercs."

Aria's eyes flash with alarm slightly, as she leans in closer to me and says one word. The tone behind it sends a chill down my spine. "Who." The ways she says it makes it obvious it's not a question, not even a request. Just a statement for me to spill them beans.

I form my hand into a gun shape, slowly drag it over to the batarian, and lower my thumb to mime pulling the trigger.

"Bang."

The batarian goes for his pistol…but the other three guards and myself are quicker, and he finds himself looking down four separate barrels before he can even lay his hand on his weapon. "That'd better be a sandwich you're reaching for," a shotgun wielding, turian guard says, "because whatever it is, I'm gonna make you eat it."

I gotta write that down somewhere…

"The mercs knew I was coming," I explain to Aria, who's looking remarkably calm at all this. "I figured someone would have sold me out, initially thought it was you. But that didn't make sense, so I realised whoever it was must have had some beef with me. And so far, the only guy I've really pissed off on Omega who could've known where I was going was him." I point at the guard for effect. "Even better that you went for the gun, mate. You might have been able to bluff your way out of this if you hadn't."

Aria looks disdainfully at the guard, then back at me. "I suppose I should thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"That would be nice," I nod, still pointing my gun at the batarian. "So, what happens now?"

The asari looks thoughtful for a few seconds, turning and glancing over the expanse of Afterlife, then swivels her head slightly and glances at me. "He wronged both of us. Your call."

My call? Shit…the guy did sell me out, didn't give a damn if I lived or died, just so he could make some quick money. But, it did just backfire on him spectacularly…and something tells me that kind of thing is gonna teach him a hell of a lesson. He's clearly freaking out, four eyes darting all over the place, sweat dripping on him, before his eyes settle on the barrel of the pistol, then me, silently pleading.

…

Fuck. He ain't worth it.

"I'm saving my heat sinks for the people who really deserve them," I mutter, lowering the handgun slightly, but grabbing the batarian by the throat and pressing him against the wall. "But if I ever see you again, any of my colleagues around here ever see you again, then you're not getting another chance. Understood?" The batarian nods, trembling, as I push him away and gesture down the steps. "Get out of here. Now."

The batarian takes two unsteady strides, then breaks into a run down the stairs, turning left towards Grizz. Good riddance to the bastar-

BANG.

I jump about a foot in the air, and here's an explosion of blood and skull out of the batarian's head as he crumples and falls the remaining steps. Courtesy of the smoking pistol in a human guard's hand. What the fuck? I turn around to look at Aria…whose hand is raised slightly in a signal to the guards, same satisfied smile on her face. There's the sound of weapons holstering behind me as I look at her…then it finally clicks.

"That was a test, wasn't it?" I ask quietly.

"And you failed admirably," Aria replies. "He broke Omega's only rule. He couldn't live."

"Then why not kill him yourself? Why pretend like I had a choice here!" I'm unconsciously raising my voice, but Aria remains calm and impassive. If anything, she seems amused by how angry I'm getting.

"Omega doesn't have room for compassion. Not for what you're trying to do, anyway," she says. "People on this asteroid want you dead. They won't hesitate to shoot you in the back of the head, won't give it a second's thought. They might even throw a party afterwards."

I shake my head, glaring at her. "Good for them. That's not who I am."

"Omega changes people," Aria explains, fixing me with her eyes, like a predator staring at prey. "Crushes their innocence, drives some people past what they thought they would ever be able to do. People around here don't give second chances. And the people who do end up dead all too quickly."

"You're wrong," I say, shaking my head. "This place isn't changing me. It hasn't so far, and it's not going to."

"Then ignore me," she shrugs. "I'm telling you the truth. I'm telling you how to survive Omega. It'll happen to you one way or another, and you can take my advice or leave it. Swim against the tide all you want, sooner or later you're going to get tired. It makes no difference to me."

"If I want advice about morals, you're just about the last person I'd ask," I shoot back. "You helped me, I helped you back. We're done here." I turn around, unable to look at the guard lying limp at the bottom of the stairs, as Aria laughs behind me.

"Is that so?," Aria says sardonically. "Do you think you're something special? I've seen people like you before, and they all end up like everyone else here."

"I'm not your average person," I say back, making her smile in an even more self-assured way.

"No-one thinks they're average," she replies. "You're like a naïve child, but you'll learn in time. Omega makes everyone learn."

"I'm leaving," I say firmly. "We won't attack you, you won't attack us. That simple."

"Then go," Aria says, sounding amused. "I'm not stopping you. You'll be back soon enough, anyway."

"I won't hold my breath," I mutter, finally descending the stairs and breaking into a quick walk towards the exit, trying to resist the urge to turn around as I do so. Aria might be a useful ally to have…but that reminded me that she's dangerous. She's very, very dangerous. I'm not dealing with her because she's good, but because Aria's the lesser evil around this place. After that, I'm doing this for necessity, rather than actual choice.

Something tells me we're not going to have the most comfortable friendship.

############

"She just shot him in the back of the head?" Garrus asks, mandibles widened slightly in surprise. "Even with your choice?"

"Well, technically she got someone else to shoot him," I sigh. "And yeah. I think Aria was doing it to try and prove some kind of point to me." We're almost back at the base…and I've spent the majority of the trip explaining what exactly happened with Aria to Garrus, though unsurprisingly we've got stuck on this. "She told me that Omega doesn't have room for compassion, that it changes people and I should just go with it."

"Aria likes making herself seem powerful," Garrus replies coolly. "She couldn't just let the batarian leave, it would set a precedent. Killing him was her trying to show you who's in charge."

That's a valid idea, actually…Aria's always trying to be in control, so maybe a bit of intimidation like that helps her. The more dominant she appears around here, the better, especially to someone in Archangel's group. Just playing mind games. Omega doesn't have to change me…and I don't want to think about what she said, anyway. It freaks me out a little bit.

She did talk about experiences changing people, though…which makes me realise something. "You know," I say quietly, staring out the cruiser window. "That batarian got executed right in front of my eyes, and I didn't even flinch at it."

Garrus takes a quick glance over at me. "Your point is…"

"I don't know," I shrug. "I just remember sometimes that normal people still find this kind of thing shocking." There's an awkward silence for a few seconds, then I just shake my head. "Forget about it. I shouldn't exactly be surprised I'm acclimatised to this stuff, anyway."

"You sure?" the turian asks, looking slightly concerned, but I nod him away. All that shit Aria said has got me wound up…but I'll have forgotten about it in like an hour, so no worries. "You know, Montague's a qualified psychiatrist if you want to go talk to him." The little smile on Garrus's face suggests he _might _be taking the piss. Son of a bitch…

"I think I'll pass on that," I reply, as the cruiser finally descends down towards the base. "I thought Montague was a medic?"

"You can be qualified in more than one thing," Garrus laughs. "If you're that curious, go and talk to him about it. All I know about medicine is that medi-gel stops stuff bleeding."

"Thank Christ we've got a professional, then," I say, shaking my head and grinning as we finally touch down next to the house, and Garrus sets both the doors raising. A quick glance at my omni-tool shows it's actually getting kinda late… "So, what am I supposed to be doing tomorrow?"

"You can start training with Melanis," he explains, as we both climb out the cruiser and head back into the lounge area. It's empty, so I guess everyone else must be in their own places, or sleeping. It's past midnight, and seeing as our job is to fight mercenaries, getting some rest probably helps with that. "There's a lot of technique to stealth work. At least, she tells me there is."

"Such as?"

"I don't know the finer details," he says. "But you'll need to learn things like a tactical cloak."

Tactical cloaking? Damn, that's awesome! I guess I was already going Infiltrator with my sniper rifle, pistols and tech, but this pretty much confirms it. Turning invisible is one hell of a cool power. "I can't wait to get started, then," I eagerly reply.

"Don't be too enthusiastic," he chuckles. "Melanis is going to want to put you through your paces physically. Check your agility, core strength. You might be hiding in the shadows, but you need to be able to move quickly, so she's going to make sure you haven't lost any fitness while you were at C-Sec." Bollocks…I kept up the gun range practice, and the gym, but the missions with Shepard kept me in better shape than they ever could. And since it's been a while, something tells me my fitness test result might not be so satisfactory.

"I don't mind a woman who can push me hard," I say, smiling slightly as Garrus rolls his eyes. "So, where am I staying?"

The turian points up the stairs. "I'll show you. All the individual rooms got taken already, so we got bunk-beds installed up there." He gestures over at the room he's holding out in at the end of ME2…the one with the balcony view over the bridge. So, our final stand position will also be my bedroom. Fun. I take a quick glance to my left as we reach the top of the stairs…at the spacious room with a large double bed. Huh.

"Who does that one belong to?"

"Oh," Garrus says, looking a little shy. "Well, that's my room."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "That's ridiculous. I take a bunk bed, and you get that beast?"

"Hey, someone had to take it," he shoots back. "I wasn't going to let it go to waste. Besides, I am the leader. I should get some privileges around here."

"It's Melanis's house!"

"She's fine with it," the turian shrugs. "Besides, you survived in a cot on the Normandy. It'll be just like old times."

"Yeah. The really bad part of old times," I sigh, walking into the room with Garrus and taking a quick look around. We've got Mierin and Grundan Krul on one bunk, Laet and Montague on another, then Weaver and Sidonis. Which leaves the top bunk above Erash spare for me. Cool! Everyone else must have individual rooms to themselves. "I can see where I'm going, then."

Garrus nods, then pats me on the shoulder. "You've had a hard time of Omega so far. I swear to you, not every day will have you getting shot at, betrayed and playing mind games with Omega's ruler. That's usually just once or twice a week." I laugh quietly at that, not wanting to wake anyone up, and he does too. "Get some rest. We're usually up early, and Melanis won't want to wait around for you."

"She already doesn't like me," I point out. "Not like I can make it any worse."

"Believe me, with her, you _definitely _can," he retorts. "Get some rest, Ian." He's right, actually, I really could do with some rest…now that I've finally settled slightly, everything that's happened today is kind of crashing down on me, and I feel exhausted for it.

"Alright," I nod sleepily. "I'll see you in the morning, Garrus."

He nods in acknowledgement, makes for the exit, then turns around and gives me a little smile. "Welcome back." Then he's gone, and I catch a glimpse of him striding off towards his room. His incredibly comfortable room, with huge double bed…son of a bitch.

I walk softly over to the bunk bed, quietly ascending the small ladder. Erash mutters something below me and rolls over slightly, but his eyes stay shut, so presumably I just disturbed whatever dream he was having.

Looks like this is, then. My new home, my new family for a year and a bit. New friendships to be made, enemies to fight, experiences to have…but I'm too tired to think about that now. I can get to know the rest of the crew over the next few days, start my training off, and get ready for action once again. Just after I shut my eyes for a few seconds…

I barely feel my head falling back onto the pillow, and I'm already asleep when it finally makes contact.

**A/N: That's the first 'case' done! Or rather, the incredibly long prologue. I wanted to show how bad stuff really does fall apart without Shepard, introduce the squad on a base level, show what Omega is like, all that good stuff. Now we're done with that, the missions and real character development can begin!**

**I was looking for more character interactions here, but the combination of there being so damn many of them, and how much content there was to fit in here plot-wise, meant I could only get Butler. I will definitely get around to everyone several times. They all have their own unique stories which I **_**really **_**want to tell, which will become clearer and clearer develop as the story continues. I want to make it flow slightly more with character development actually running parallel to plot, rather than artificial stops to talk to a squad member or something.**

**So, Ian's finally been recruited, set up an uneasy relationship with Aria, all that fun. ****It's gonna skip forward a week to the first real mission next time…if anyone has LotSB, check the name Tharlog Mirki'it in Garrus's dossier. He's up next.**

**As usual, thank you all for your continued support, it is very much appreciated. ****High five.**

**Until next time!**


	9. Ian vs The Gunship

Chapter 9

John Murphy: In The House – In A Heartbeat

**October 16th, 2185  
9:12pm, Omega time  
Archangel's hideout**

"It's been almost twenty minutes," Garrus breathes next to me, looking over the bridge through his sniper scope. "Where have they gone to…"

"Probably regrouping," I say, moving to stand next to him and taking a glance ahead through my rifle. It had been far, far too quiet. We've been working through the waves steadily for hours upon hours now, and they've paused before, presumably to try and work out some kind of new plan. But not for this long. Something is definitely off about this… "You think they're going to try for a bigger push of troops?"

Garrus shakes his head next to me. "No. They've already tried that a few times, and it's not got them anywhere. You'd think they'd work out sending people to rush across that bridge is a bad idea eventually, but obviously not."

"They're using freelancers," I point out. "They don't care about the casualties, just want to try and wear us down. And they're not doing a bad job of it." I slump down on the wall, leaning my back and head against it and taking slow, deep breaths. What the hell is taking Shepard so long…

"Then why would they give us a break?" Garrus muses. "We've been going through soldiers quickly, actually. Maybe they ran out of freelancers and have to wait for more."

I nod my head slowly, thinking it over. That does make sense, but some part of my brain is nagging me that something about that theory doesn't quite add up. Then again, given the situation, the fact I'm being paranoid doesn't exactly come as a huge shock. "Or they're just trying to lull us into a false sense of security. Make us leave our posts, then strike while we're away."

"How stupid do they think we are?"

"Given everything they've tried so far, I think they're kind of banking on us being stupid. They'll have to start using their brains eventually," I reply. "Not that I'm resenting a chance to catch my breath. How're we doing for ammo?"

"Fine, but we're almost out of grenades," he mutters. "At this rate, we should be able to hold for another few hours."

A few hours? Shit, I was kind of hoping for a few days… "And if Shepard doesn't show up by then? Have we got a contingency?"

Garrus looks down at the floor, then back up at me. "We die," he says simply, sending a chill running through me. "So you'd better hope your memory isn't letting you down."

"That's it?" I ask incredulously. "After everything we've been through, you'd just roll over and die?"

"I'm being realistic," the turian grunts. "This is a good place to defend because it's isolated. The only way they can get in here is that bridge. Which means it's also the only way we have of getting out, and I chose it because you told me Shepard was coming to get us. So I hope you haven't held anything back about that, either."

"Oh, not this again!" I snap. "You know why I did what I did. You'd come to terms with it!"

The turian laughs at me humourlessly. "Come to terms with what? You not being able to trust me from the beginning?"

"I do trust you, Garrus! And I know you! Tell me I was wrong hold it back. Tell me you wouldn't have acted like I said you would have." Garrus looks back at me in total silence, face hidden beneath his helmet. "Look, you can lie to yourself about it all you want, but don't try lying to me. I did what I had to, and I never expected you to take it well, but you know I was right to do it," I say quietly. "And it should have worked. We both know that. I couldn't have predicted what happened."

Garrus sighs despondently, then walks over and sits against the wall next to me. "That's why it pisses me off. If I'd known, I'd have still made a bad judgement on it. But then my bad judgement got us into this mess in the first place."

I feel my anger dissipate hearing the slightly forlorn tone in his voice, instead replaced by a feeling of almost overwhelming fatigue and sadness. Omega has done this to us…and whatever happens tonight, if Shepard shows up or not, it's a relief to think that I'll be leaving it behind. Dead or alive. "This wasn't your fault. The mercs got to Sidonis, and we did what we could. Hell, if anyone had bad judgement here, it was me. Thinking he could change or something. But don't blame yourself."

"It was his fault," Garrus growls. "But I should have been more careful anyway." He shakes his head. "I didn't mean what I said about not being able to trust each other. It's just…damn it, this is getting to me."

"Me too," I sigh, then look over at him. "But we can make it. I swear to you, we're going to get out of here." I'm not even sure I believe the words myself, but I have to say them. Both of us need a glimmer of hope, and I'm going to hold onto it, however irrational it might seem. "You managed by yourself in game. With the two of us…they shouldn't stand a chance."

"That's true," he nods, then looks over at me, face still concealed by the helmet. "Thanks. For calming me down, for just being here-" He suddenly stops mid-sentence, lifting his head slightly, tensing up. "You hear that?"

Huh? "Hear what?" Garrus holds up a talon for silence, and I close my eyes, trying to exclusively focus on the world around me and blocking all other senses out. Maybe he's just getting paranoid…no, wait, I hear a sort of low humming noise, that's getting progressively louder in each passing moment. "I'm getting that now. You know, it does sound really familiar…"

Then, it suddenly clicks.

Oh, FUCK.

"GUNSHIP!" Garrus yells, pushing me down fully into cover and hurling himself prone as the hum becomes a roar, and heavy machine gun fire rips into the wall behind where I was only a few seconds ago. Of course, Garrus got attacked by the gunship once before it came around for the second attempt…why do I always remember this shit _after _it happens?

"_Give it up, Archangel!" _the pilot of the ship yells through its external speakers. "_You can't beat a gunship!" _It doesn't sound like Tarak…damn, he must only decide to pilot it later. Killing him now would just be too easy, wouldn't it?

"You hear that, man?" I say, feigning offence. "Says we can't beat a gunship. We managed with a Reaper, right?"

"Shut up and let me think," the turian growls. "We don't have the firepower to take it down from here, but I should be able to disable some of the critical electronics with a sniper shot."

I raise an eyebrow under the helmet. I know he can't actually see it, but force of habit. "You can do that with one shot?"

"The gunships they use are cheap," Garrus explains. "They pack a lot of a punch, but most of the circuitry and weapon systems are located towards the top of it. One round should be enough to put it out of commission, at least for a while."

"If we try and snipe from up here, we'll get ripped to shreds before we can even stand up and aim!" I shout over the roar of the gunship's engines. Getting progressively closer. At this rate, he'll get close enough to have an angle to shoot us behind the balcony… "Cheap gunship or not, I don't fancy those weapons!"

"Only one of us needs to snipe!" the turian replies. "The other can distract him from the lower floor, make him descend so there's a clearer shot from up here!"

I roll my eyes within the helmet. "I can guess what I'm doing, then!"

"You're the athletic one," Garrus shoots back. Does he sound slightly amused by all this? Crazy bastard… "He'll rip you to shreds if you try and take the door, though. But, if you go over that rail there…" He points to the waist high barrier overlooking the lounge below. "That should let you get into cover."

"What?" I yell. "Are you fucking mental? I'll break my legs!"

"There's a couch below, that'll cushion your fall!" he shouts. "It's not that high!" The engines are almost deafening now, and I can see the top of gunship emerging over us. Whywhywhy… "Go!" I freeze up slightly, looking at him. Garrus isn't impressed. "GO!"

I push off from a crouched position, not even bothering to give what I'm doing any thought as I burst for the rail, at any moment expecting a heavy round from the gunship's machine gun to tear through my chest. He must not have been expecting this, though, since he hasn't opened fire…I place one hand on the rail and throw myself over it, yelling just as a burst of machine gun fire flies over my head and makes me flinch instinctively. Shit, now I'm gonna fuck up the landi-

I smack into the lip of the couch with my side, grunting in pain as I barrel roll off it and sprawl to the floor. As soon as that ship descends, he's gonna have a clear shot…trying to ignore the pain in my side, I clumsily scramble to my knees and open up my omni-tool, rapidly inputting commands as I see the gun start to descend from the top of the window. Come on, just a little more time…

There's a slight clicking noise, as my armour suddenly becomes fully transparent around my body. Perfect! The gun begins roving around, searching for its now cloaked target, as I make a rush for a more secure position. It's only going to last me about seven seconds, and I'm running with a slight limp, but it lets me get towards the kitchen area.

There's good cover here, behind the sofas…but I need to keep that gunship distracted. And the best way to keep someone targeting me is to piss them off. I just had a really, really stupid idea. He can't see me from my location, so I quickly open the fridge and grab myself a bottle of Tupari (levo-amino). No-one likes a cocky bastard…

I unscrew the top, walking just into the gunship's line of sight, and tilt the bottle towards him with a cheery wave.

Come and get me, you son of a bitch.

I hurl the bottle at the ship, diving back behind the wall as the pilot goes absolutely crazy with the machine gun, taking the bottle out in mid-air and tearing up most of the furniture in front of the window. Bastard! I've still got about few seconds before my cloak recharges, and I want to keep him distracted. Plus, there's a perfectly good bit of cover across the room from me…and my side isn't feeling too bad now. Time for a sprint!

I wait for the gun to stop firing, then burst out, pointing my pistol out vaguely in the gunship's direction as I go and squeezing the trigger as fast as I can. I may as well be shooting peas at the fucker, but it's enough to draw his attention, strafing the room once again as I slide on the smooth floor behind another couch, slider on the pistol snapping back and automatically ejecting the heat sink as I scramble to keep low.

I grab another sink, ramming it into the base of the gun, then snapping the slide back into place with a quick press onto the catch holding it back. Laet worked wonders making it like this for me…frankly, the old design of handguns is way better than the stuff they make in this day and age. Laet'd probably be freaking out if he was here right now, poor bastard…

Another burst of gunfire draws my attention back to the situation at hand, ripping through the upper portion of sofa and making me hurl myself prone. Too bad they're not bulletproof, like in the games…what the hell is Garrus doing? I snatch a quick peek over the top of the sofa, and-

ROCKET!

I shoot back down faster than I thought was even possible, as the missile streaks past and explodes against the back wall, the force of the blast slamming my back into the sofa and showering debris from furniture over me, clattering against my armour as I instinctively shield myself from the explosion. Fucking Christ! I almost pulled a Garrus there…not cool. I don't think I'm quite badass enough to take rockets to the face just yet.

Crap, that gunship is going to target him again if he thinks I'm dead…so I reach my hand up and over the lip of the mostly destroyed sofa and stick my middle finger up, chuckling to myself as I hear the pilot growl slightly from the ship's loudspeaker. Enraged people make more mistakes…

But even someone blinded with rage is going to wreck this couch soon enough. I set off the cloak again, pushing myself up and away from my ruined cover as the gunship decimates it completely with gunfire. How fucking long does it take to line up a shot? Seriously? I go to the window the gunship's trying to shoot me through as it still targets the couch, leaning on it with my forearms and trying my best to seem bored as I materialise.

"Good effort, mate!" I yell. "A few seconds earlier, and you've had got me!"

"_I'll kill you, you bastard!" _the voice over the speakers shouts, and I prepare to duck back down…just a sniper rifle sounds and the ship suddenly lurches to the side, accompanied by curses from the pilot. That's some truly impeccable timing by Garrus…though, it still shouldn't have taken this long!

The gun is still aiming at me, but presumably the weapons ain't working, otherwise that guy would be lighting my ass up right now. I stand up fully, and shrug apologetically at the gunship. "See, this is what happens when you buy second-hand! Cheap, but so unreliable!"

"_Screw you!" _the pilot screams back. _"This isn't over! You can't hold out here forever!"_

"Watch me, asshole!" I shout, as the gunship clumsily retreats back into the distance. I hold the defiant pose for a few seconds, until it's out of my line of sight…then breathe out deeply, laughing with a mixture of adrenaline and relief. Bastard almost took my head off with that rocket…and now my life isn't in immediate danger, the spot where I impacted with the couch is aching horribly. I might have cracked a rib doing that…fuck, I hope not. And it's not like Montague's around to help me out, either.

Still, at least that's the gunship taken care of. For now, anyway. Plus, being attacked by it once means Shepard's cue to enter should be any time soon, since Sergeant Cathka is going to be pulling work now to repair that thing. The thought reignites lost hope in my chest as I ascend the stairs slowly, recovering my breath and holstering my pistol. We're not just going to lie down and die. She'll be here. And until she is, we fight to survive.

Garrus looks over at me as I walk into the room, helmet concealing his face, but I know he'll be smiling underneath it. I mean, we did just take down a gunship with one shot, so no doubt he'll be feeling smug about that. "Nice distraction job," he says admiringly. "Gave me a clear shot at the bastard."

"Yeah, after about five minutes," I say sarcastically, taking a seat at the wall again. "Even with the tactical cloak, that was way too close! What the hell took so long?"

"Hey, you try sniping a moving target that's barely any bigger than a datapad," he shoots back.

"You try hurling yourself off a balcony and almost getting blown up."

"Shut up, sit down and check your ammo," he growls, but there's a friendly tone behind it as I follow his 'suggestion'. "They'll be pissed now. Which means we'll have a few more waves coming our way. You ready?"

I sigh slightly, looking at him. "I've been doing this for hours now, so yeah, I'm pretty warmed up."

"Good," he nods. "Melanis would have been proud of you using the tactical cloak like that, you know." I feel a little surge of guilt thinking about her…but he's right. I can imagine her smiling a little bit seeing me do that, even if she tried to hide it. And then probably having a go at me afterwards, just because.

"I know," I reply. "She taught me well." I take a quick glance over the balcony ledge again, frowning slightly at the sight of yet more freelancers. "This is terrible. They're like lambs to the slaughter. Throwing their lives away just because we're worth a few credits."

"That's Omega," Garrus shrugs. "This is about survival. I think Wrex said something that would be fitting here…"

I chuckle slightly, thinking back to the krogan. "Anyone who fights us is either on the merc's payroll or stupid. Killing the former is business. Killing the latter is a favour to the galaxy."

"Exactly," the turian laughs. "Come on. We've lasted this far, we can keep going for a bit longer."

I nod my head firmly, then settle my eye back on the scope, lining it up on a freelancer. I guess I owe Melanis for the tactical cloak…seeing as it saved my life back there. Too bad I wasn't so thankful going through the training process with her.

As I pull the trigger, then switch targets, I can't help thinking back. To the day I finished my training with her, to the day where I started in this whole damn business for real…

**A/N: Well, this should give you an idea of how the story is going to pan out now! Basically, after every 'case' the situation in the house will develop a little further, and trigger a memory in the past. That's why it's a little shorter than usual, but hey, at least that means getting it out quicker!**

**So, next up, we flash back to the first real case, get some conversation with Melanis in, and lay down the fabric of what's to come. Exciting times!**

**And with that, thanks for reading, reviewing and everything else that makes me happy, and I'll see you next chapter!**


	10. Ian vs The Sand

Chapter 10

La Roux: In For the Kill

**A/N: Sorry this took a little longer than usual. Blame redecorating, and me being the only person in my house seemingly capable of lifting heavy objects and operating technology. On with the chapter!**

This isn't how I saw things going.

Hanging upside down, blood gradually going to my head, swaying slightly, handgun gripped tightly in two hands. One round, one shot, one chance to get this right. The target is about thirty metres away, and I need a headshot if I'm gonna get out of this.

I breathe in deeply, steadying my grip. The sights line up with the skull…and I pull the trigger, recoil making me swing again as I watch the shot fly harmlessly past.

"FUCK!" I yell, as I pull myself back onto the pipe with my hands, then uncurl my legs from it and drop to the floor, legs aching slightly from the impact. That said, it's about the fiftieth time I've made that drop today, so I shouldn't be surprised by things taking their toll. And the twenty second time I've missed that shot, give or take one or two attempts.

We're in the garage style area beneath the main house, where the shutters are located for Garrus's recruitment mission…and its been set up as a training area, with boxes and crates scattered around, along with ledges, crawl spaces and pipes for infiltration training.

I've been getting pushed really, really damn hard. Weights, cardiovascular training, agility, aiming, tech…you name it, I've probably been over it. And nailed most of it down. But for some reason, hanging upside down and scoring a perfect headshot is still eluding me slightly.

"Spirits, you couldn't hit water if you fell out of a boat," Melanis mutters from next to me, scowling slightly. "On infiltration missions, this is the kind of shot you can't afford to miss!"

"I know," I say, barely able to conceal my frustration. "I remember that from the first hundred bloody times you mentioned it. And maybe if I hadn't been hanging upside down from a pipe for the past hour, my aim would be a _little _better, don't you think?"

The female turian just shrugs, fixing me with her piercing gaze. "If fatigue was your only problem, I wouldn't care. But your technique is awful."

"You're the first woman I've ever had tell me that."

It takes Melanis a few seconds to twig at what I'm getting at, then she releases a dangerous sounding growl as she jumps up to the pipe herself, grabbing it with her talons and swinging her legs up and around it. After a week of this, she's stopped using comebacks. "The recoil is going to force your gun down when you fire, so you want to aim slightly higher than your target." Melanis looses off a round from her weapon, hitting the practice dummy straight in the temple. "How you haven't learnt this yet is beyond me." She doesn't even bother tucking herself back up to drop, instead just twisting in the air as she releases her legs from the pipe, landing in a crouched position.

"I've made the shot before," I point out, as the turian stands back up again. "And all this hanging upside down is making me dizzy. Shouldn't we go back to tech training and look at this later?"

She frowns, then reluctantly nods her head. "Alright. As soon as you hit that target again, we can move onto tech."

Wait, _again? _"Once more is pushing your luck, Mel."

"Oh, is it?" she asks rhetorically, giving me a sadistic grin as she turns around and puts her talon at my neck. "I keep these sharp. And your hide isn't thick. So, I think you not doing as I say is pushing _your _luck."

"That's ridiculous," I say, unable to help sounding a little nervous. This past week, Melanis has hit me. Several times. Excuses range from me 'being an idiot' to her just being plain bored, but even if she won't gut me, a 'friendly' punch in the face isn't beyond her. Even Garrus is prepared to turn a blind eye to it. He calls it her motivating me, the bastard. "You're wearing gloves. And you can't pierce through armour."

"If you went to test that theory, be my guest," she growls lightly. "I can take these gloves off. And your neck is exposed by thinner plating than the rest. Believe me, after this past week, I definitely think it's worth a try."

"One more shot?"

"One more hit."

"You're harsh, Mel," I mutter, as the turian pulls her talon away and I jump back onto the pipe. "Using violence to coerce me into action."

"It's not my fault you react so well to it," she calls from below me.

"Still, do you have to enjoy it so much?"

There's a sharp chuckle from her. "Only for you, Ian, only for you."

I sigh slightly, beginning to lower myself down as I pull out my handgun. My brand new, pimped out handgun that Laet sorted for me. Same Predator design as before, but customised to perfection. I picked it up from him the day after I went to see Aria, along with my new armour…and I remember the turian's beaming face as I did.

"_What've you got for me?" I asked, walking into Laet's workshop. The turian was __fiddling with a pistol, making some last minute adjustments, when he looked up at me and smiled broadly._

"_I have equipment beyond your wildest dreams," he said mock-dramatically, rising to his feet and sweeping his arm around. "Masterfully crafted, my own personal guarantee on all products."_

_I chuckled_. _"You only give that guarantee because the owner's gonna be dead if the equipment doesn't work."_

"_So cynical for someone so young," Laet replied, frowning at me, then snatching up the pistol and handing it over. "But I'm not joking. As a man who appreciates the handgun, you'll love this." _

I take a glance at the gun now in my hand, as I hang down and take aim at the target again. On the surface, it looks almost identical to any old pistol. However, it fires silenced shots. The cooling systems have been optimised so I get an extra five shots out of every thermal clip, giving the gun a capacity of seventeen rounds. Predator pistols don't even bother me with recoil anymore, so he even managed to buff the mass accelerator to increase weapon impact. I'm getting a slight kick out of the weapon now, but it's hitting a hell of a lot harder.

"_Melanis will probably explain this to you herself," the turian muttered, moving towards the back of the room to get something else. "But you need a more__ powerful handgun if you're in infiltration."_

_I raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"_

"_You need one shot kills," Laet explained. "Basic stuff. If you're taking five shots to kill someone, by the time they're dead they'll have alerted all of their friends in the immediate vicinity."_

_I scratched the back of my head at that, feeling a little bit stupid. "Oh, of course. Wait, how are we gonna kill them if they're wearing full body armour?"_

"_Here's the joy," Laet said, sounding almost a little too gleeful. "Merc groups hire a lot of people, and generally they don't get messed with on Omega. They're always looking to save money. So, while mercs have armour suits, very few bother with helmets. The station is hot enough as it is, and from what I hear helmets aren't 'cool' these days. Combine that with the fact their shields are typically about as useful as…uh…"_

"_A ham sandwich at a Bar Mitzvah__?" I suggested helpfully._

_Laet just looked confused at that, then shrugged. "I'm guessing that makes sense, so okay. One headshot with this handgun should sort them out. Unless they've got better armour, but there's always melee kills."_

"_When did you get so knowledgeable about all this?"_

"_I've been hanging around everyone here for a while," the turian replied. "You pick things up, whether you want to or not. Plus, turian military experience. Anyway, just bear that in mind."_

_I nodded my head. "Thanks for the advice. What else is there?"_

"_I'm glad you asked," he said again, grinning like an excited child at Christmas as he turned around once again, holding a suit of armour in his hands. A fairly familiar looking set…but there was something different about it. The torso was the only place with any real plating, with the helmet obviously folded into the neck of it, as usual, but the rest seemed to be just the suit underlayer, coloured midnight black, with small pads around the elbows and knees._

_The torso section was coloured black too, except for the dark crimson dragon swirled across the left hand side of it. "So, this is why you needed my old set?" I asked, already knowing the answer._

"_Wanted to make sure I got the design right," he nodded. "This is significantly lighter than your old suit, lets you move almost as fast as if you were wearing nothing at all, though I don't want to think about that image." I laughed at that, while he pointed out the finer details. "The layer underneath will still apply medi-gel, and has shielding, but nothing powerful. Your armour is at the torso and head, everywhere else might be an issue. This was designed with maximum manoeuvrability in mind, not protection, since you shouldn't be getting shot at anyway."_

"_I understand. You kept the sliding helmet?"_

"_Of course," Laet grinned, pointing out controls on the wrist of the suit, weaved into the underlay. "Improved it, as well."_

_I was intrigued by that. "How so?"_

"_Four viewing modes. Regular vision, night vision, thermal vision, and sonar vision," he explained, sounding more and more enthused by the second. "Should sort you out in every scenario. Sonar even lets you see through walls. I did the same to the helmet on your combat suit, too. The mercs might have the numbers, but they're not a match for our equipment…"_

I grin slightly at the memory, lifting my new pistol and putting the sight just above the dummy's head. Laet's still a bro, even after coming to Omega, and he really did give me the hook-up on gear. I've already put the different vision settings into practice, and they're phenomenally effective. Especially sonar. Looking through walls is _awesome, _even if the thing needs to refresh itself every ten seconds or so, which leaves me kinda blind.

"You're supposed to be killing the target, not yourself from a blood rush!" Melanis calls out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I grimace slightly, not wanting to shout anything back, double checking my aim, then I squeeze the trigger. Again, the recoil knocks my arms back slightly…but the round impacts against the dummy perfectly, making it wobble slightly as I drop down to the ground. I catch a quick glimpse of Melanis as I do…and there's actually a slight smile on her face, almost proud expression as she looks at the dummy. Then the usual face is back, slightly annoyed expression as she glances at me.

"Not bad," she concedes. Ah, what's the catch here? "But you took too long lining up the shot." I knew it! "Mercenaries tend to move around rather than just waiting to be shot."

"Shit. I never picked that up from fighting Saren and the geth."

"Am I supposed to be impressed by that?"

"Would it kill you to be?" I say, raising an eyebrow, then smiling slightly at the reaction I'm getting from her. Mandibles widened in frustrations, eyes narrowed. I realised rather quickly that Mel doesn't like me, and that I'm excellent at winding her up, so I'm just making a game out of it now. It's good banter. For me, anyway. "Would it? Just a little bit impressed?"

"The fact you survived all that remains a constant mystery to me," she sighs, Australian twang still firmly in her accent. I still haven't asked her about that…part of me thinks it's my translator glitching out, but that seems unlikely. I was waiting for a good moment to ask, but Melanis and I don't have good moments, so no time like the present!

"It might just be my translator," I say slowly, "but I'm picking you up as having an Earth accent."

She rolls her eyes at that. "Let me guess. Australian?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Why is it translating turian like th-"

"I'm speaking English, you mug," Melanis says. "It's my second bloody language, I like the practice with you, and it stops any translator issues."

Wait…if she's speaking English, then that's her genuine accent. "You were brought up on Earth?"

"He finally realises. Good to see you're not a total idiot," the turian sighs. "Yeah. I moved to Melbourne when I was four, then to Omega when I was twenty two. Been here for just over a year now. I barely even remember the turian colony I was born on."

"Eighteen years living on Earth?" I laugh. "Damn, you've spent as much time on the human homeworld as I have!"

"I'm more used to humans than I am my own species," she says, obviously appreciating the irony. "And I picked up the accent."

"Why the move to Omega?"

All the friendliness off Melanis' demeanour suddenly disappears, instead replaced with a cold glare and folded arms. Shit, that was a _really_ bad question…generally asking about stuff like that doesn't help around here. "It's a long story. And I don't want to tell it anyway."

"Alright," I nod, feeling embarrassed. "I didn't mean to bring anyt-"

"Don't," she says simply, shaking her head. "Just don't." We stand in awkward silence for a few seconds, then she mutters something I don't quite catch under her breath and looks at me. "Tactical cloaking, then. You've already got the basics down, but-"

There's a simultaneous beeping noise from both our omni-tools, as I glance down.

_One new message: Garrus V._

_Team meeting in main lounge. Something's come up we all need to deal with._

I exchange a quick glance with Melanis. "You know anything about this?"

"No, Ian, that's why there's a bloody meeting," she shoots back. "Come on. We don't want to keep anyone waiting."

###########

Most of the group is already on the central couches as Melanis and I walk into the lounge, with the last few stragglers taking their seats. Unfortunately, my training regime has been extremely strict, with time for socialising almost non-existent. Still, I know all the squad, and they know me, plus I've got a basic handle on everyone's personality. Basically, everyone except Grundan Krul and Vortash are friendly enough to talk. I guess I can work on actually making social links once she's satisfied I've been trained…though, with Melanis, that might never happen. The female turian herself makes a bee-line for Montague on seeing him, the drell greeting her with a smile as he sits next to her. Huh…I drop down next to Butler, and look over at Garrus.

"Is everyone here?" he asks, as all of glance around and I run through the numbers in my head. Twelve people present…missions and stuff have still be going on while I've been training, but it's basic patrol stuff, keeping an eye on mercs and attacking anything that presents an easy target. For a whole team meeting, though, this must be something major. "Alright. You're probably wondering why I called you all here."

"Feel free to tell us," Butler mutters from next to me, getting some smirks from around the group. Fortunately, Garrus is one of them. "I got plenty to be doing without some shitey pep-talk."

"Then I'll get to the point, Butler, just for you," the turian counters. "We all know Omega has a huge red sand problem, but I've done some digging and I think I've found a way to put a serious dent in it."

I catch Erash rolling his eyes from across the room. "If it's blowing up a supply or something, we've done this before. Explosions are routine."

"In that case, you take some charges and a detonator next time, and sort it out yourself," Weaver says. "Nothing routine about explosives." He has got a point there, actually…but already, the discussion seems to be falling into arguments. Garrus, however, doesn't seem too bothered. It is all pretty light-hearted, after all. He just clears his throat, and all attention in the room snaps back to him when he does. Damn, that's some respect…

"This isn't just one strike. This is lots of targets, lots of different things we'll need to do, and one man behind it all," he explains. "His name is Thralog Mirki'it, he's a batarian."

"Why does that name sound familiar…" I hear Mierin mutter, which makes Sidonis swivel his head slightly and face him.

"It sounds familiar because Mirki'it is the red sand lynchpin on this station," the barefaced turian says. "Omega has several networks for selling it to people who live here, which the merc groups supply, but he runs the largest one."

I shake my head slightly. "I'm guessing he's not a nice guy."

"No," Sidonis sighs. "With a business like that, you can't be nice. His network supplies the mercenary groups with a ton of credits for supplies and security, but his business practices aren't exactly respectable."

Garrus steps in to take over there. "He ruthlessly exploits the addicts he helps create. When they're hooked and haven't got any way to pay for their next hit, he takes them in and uses them as slave labour, paying them in red sand. It's digusting." There's a real passion in Garrus' voice at that, a real fury…which I understand perfectly. This sounds fucked up. "If we get rid of him, it's going to help destroy some of the slave labour on this place, remove a big part of the red sand business, and deal a big blow to the mercs."

There's a slight pause, which encourages me to speak up. "So…I assume we're going after him, right?"

"I don't think I need to take a vote on this," Garrus chuckles. "This is exactly the kind of person this team was formed to stop."

"How're you going to do that?" Grundan asks gruffly. "Just killing him isn't going to solve anything. Someone else will pick up the business."

"He's right," Butler points out. "We can kill the wee prick, but there's hundreds more little bastards like him on this station just waiting to take over."

Garrus holds up a talon for silence, smiling slightly to himself. So far, I'm pretty much content to just sit back and watch him do this. I'm impressed…and actually kind of proud. Everyone around here respects him, he's in control, and he knows what he's doing. Come a long way from the idealistic cop three years ago… "I've thought about this. His organisation works simply. Production, dealing, enforcement. We destroy them, the whole thing crumbles, and no-one wants to take over a wreck. And all the business aspects are interlocked."

"So, we attack them all at once?" Melanis asks.

"Yeah," Garrus nods. "Production and dealing are closely linked, but if we just destroy production facilities he can outsource off Omega, which means he'd have to give the mercs even more money. So, to make that more risky for him, we need to attack every red sand shipment we can. That'll drive prices up."

Oh, I see where this is going...damn, this is a masterful plan! "But if we take down his facilities on Omega, and attack the dealing side of business, he's not going to be able to afford that."

"Exactly," the turian grins, obviously pleased I'm understanding. "We can 'persuade' dealers he's not the best person to work with. He won't have anyone to sell his surplus, he won't have any way to get stuff in from off-world because it's so expensive, and he won't have any means of production on Omega. Then we take him down. Perfect."

I stare around the room, taking in all the nodding heads, and I can't help but feel slightly amazed. In about five minutes, we just worked out a way to destroy an entire red sand network. I understand why this beats C-Sec… "When do we start?" Weaver asks simply. Butler cracks his knuckles next to me for extra effect. Nice.

"Tonight," Garrus says. "The Blue Suns have a big shipping dock for everything they take in, smuggled weapons, red sand, the usual criminal items. This might be a prolonged campaign to put prices up, but if we're going to do it, we may as well start on a big target like this. The more people that hear about this, the better." Makes sense…if people are worried about smuggling shipments going foul, it's going to become a more lucrative business. Danger money. Playing right into our hands.

Well, if I didn't think Garrus was a genius before, I sure as hell do now.

"You're going to need a team," Sidonis says confidently. "Count me in." He's the typical foot-soldier guy, assault rifle and all that, so I reckon he could work. Besides, he hasn't betrayed us yet.

"I've already worked out the team. Sidonis, you're coming, then I need Weaver, Butler and…Ian."

Uh, what? "This is an all out assault. I'm supposed to be the infiltration guy, remember?"

"You were fine against the geth on Virmire," he points out. "Maybe infiltration is your speciality, but you're still a good soldier. I want to make sure you haven't lost what skills you had, anyway."

"He had skills? Could've fooled me," Melanis mutters sarcastically from across the room, getting a few laughs. I'm tempted to flick her off, but nah. I'll be the bigger man. Even though she's a woman. Whatever.

"We're moving out in about an hour," Garrus chuckles. Wait, he was laughing too? Son of a bitch! "Everyone who's on the squad, get prepped and meet by the Kodiak in…an hour. And don't be too hard on Ian, it's his first time." There's more laughter at that, as the turian shoots me a grin, and I can't help laughing a little myself. I'm not sure why it's funny to me, it just is. "Good luck, everyone!"

There's variations on 'thanks, Garrus' from around the room, as people begin to file out. I catch a quick glimpse of Melanis with her hand on Montague's shoulder, laughing at some unknown joke, then they split apart. Maybe they're an item? Or building up to it, anyway? Man, if only Wrex was here…

"You should go and get some medi-gel," Garrus says from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to look at him. "Besides, I think Montague's been wanting to see you since you got here."

That's…interesting. I've wanted to talk to him too, but he's always been busy whenever I've tried, even though we've exchanged a few nods of greeting and stuff at team meetings. I think the drell is just curious to actually know who I am…and frankly, I'm curious to meet him, too. So I guess this works for both of us. "I guess I've got time to kill," I shrug. Laet's still got my combat suit in my equipment locker, along with the infiltration one…and given this mission, something tells me the combat suit might be more appropriate. But that shouldn't take too long to get, so I'll go and see Montague first. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Don't worry about it. How's training with Melanis?"

"About as good as you can expect. I still think she's trying to kill me."

"She's motivating you."

"I knew you'd say that," I sigh, shaking my head at the grin on the turian's face. "I'm gonna go see Montague. You go piss someone else off for a change."

"Am I getting to you?" Garrus asks teasingly, as I begin to walk away. "You just can't handle my devastating wit."

"You're worse than she is!" I shout back, as I reach the door to the med-bay and step through. Montague is sitting in a chair by his desk at the back of the room, beds lined up against the wall, along with all manner of medical equipment neatly stored on the right wall. He swivels his chair slowly around, then smiles a little when he sees it me. For some reason, I'm getting déjà vu there…probably because Chakwas did something similar.

"Ian Shaw," he says coolly, with a slight inclination of his head, and gestures to a seat by his desk. "Good to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's mine," I smile, taking the seat and holding out a hand. "It's just Ian. Or Shaw, whichever you prefer." Montague shakes my hand, and it feels kind of weird…blue scales sliding across my palm, along with the fact he has webbed hands, and a firm grip. Not unpleasant, though, just different from what I'm used to.

"Ian," he replies, looking thoughtful. "It is customary to call people by their first name, isn't it?"

I nod, letting go of his hand and settling back into the seat slightly. "Yeah. I don't really mind, though, some people reckon Shaw has more of a ring to it."

"I'll bear that in mind," the drell says, rising to his feet and heading over to one of the storage units mounted on the wall. I can't help but glance at the hand I used to shake with…and the palm has turned slightly red. It's already fading, but it reminds me of something…

_Prolonged human to drell skin contact can cause small rash, itching, _I hear Mordin's voice say. _Oral contact may cause mild hallucinations._

Shit, why'd I have to remember that last bit? While Montague's standing right here? I wince slightly, trying to get the thought out of my head…and see the drell giving me a rather odd look. Oh, God, this is embarrassing…he can't know what I was thinking, but part of me feels as if I said that line out loud. "So, uh, you got any medi-gel?" I ask quickly.

Montague's expression suddenly changes from a concerned frown to a slight smile. "This is a medical bay, so yes, I would certainly hope so." I literally facepalm at that, and hear the drell chuckling. "Are you sure you're alright, Ian? You are perspiring rapidly." Fuck, I tend to sweat when I'm freaking out…may as well try and sort this all out.

"Look," I say, trying to calm myself, "I wanted to try and make a good first impression here, and I've totally ballsed it up. Can we just forget this happened and try again?"

"Drell have eidetic memories," he replies, definite edge of amusement to his voice, "and you are asking me to forget we met?"

The smile on the drell's face grows even wider when he says that. He's having fun with this! "Right, now you're just toying with me," I grin, feeling a lot more relaxed when Montague breaks into a slightly husky laugh and grabs some medi-gel.

"Correct," he nods, still smiling as he sits back down. His voice is quite controlled, each word formed deliberately when he speaks…and he's surprisingly well spoken. Plus he has a dickish sense of humour. I can see us getting along just grand… "For someone credited with things like the Battle of the Citadel and defeating krogan battlemasters, you get nervous very easily. Though if the stories I hear about Melanis' training regime are true, I suppose you being on edge shouldn't come as a surprise."

Part of me is screaming to take the medi-gel and run before I make even more of an arse of myself, but I ignore it. "Whatever stories you've heard, it's probably worse," I reply, giving an exaggerated sigh. "As for getting nervous, I think I get so worried about not appearing to be an idiot it makes me do it anyway." It usually happens around really calm people, as well…Montague hasn't raised his voice, he's been incredibly respectful on meeting me…I like it, but for some reason it always makes me unsure how to act.

"A common affliction," the drell says reassuringly. "Just be yourself. If Garrus it to be believed, we'll be seeing a lot of each other, so I should get to know the real you."

"Alright," I nod, feeling a little more relaxed at his words. Besides, his whole demeanour is making me chill out a bit more anyway. Is that the best thing before a mission, actually? "He's told you about my injuries, huh?"

"In their multitude," Montague replies, reaching over to his private terminal and pressing a few keys. A list pops up onto the screen…with some very familiar incidents on it.

"Shit…" I say under my breath, glancing down the first page. Dislocated shoulder from fighting Caltan Xenvalis, getting shot in the chest and killed, which makes the scar itch slightly when I read it…all the various incidents at C-Sec, and that doesn't look like the end of the document. "How long is that list?"

"Almost three pages," he replies, blacking out the terminal screen again. "I admit, when Garrus gave me these details, I was expecting to see a walking corpse. Arashu must be watching you carefully indeed."

That name sounds really familiar, actually…probably something Thane mentions. Religion is supposed to be very important to drell, so this shouldn't come as a huge surprise. "Sorry, Arashu?"

"Goddess of Motherhood and Protection," Montague explains. "Though I believe her role with you mostly comprises of the latter."

"You can say that again," I chuckle. I've never been religious, but the thought that something's watching over me is kinda cool like that. "I just put it down to luck, but if Arashu's got my back, that'll help too."

"Indeed it will," he says, smiling slightly. "That said, I still suggest you take the medi-gel. As powerful as Arashu is, she cannot heal bullet wounds."

I gesture back over at the terminal. "I think the list proves that rather well."

"Agreed."

"So, how'd you meet Garrus?" I ask. Montague seems friendly enough, and it's not a pushy question. If he doesn't want to answer, it'll be cool.

Montague looks at me for a few seconds, gaze roving across my face. I dunno what it is…but something about him make it seem like he's searching me, seeing if he can trust me. Large, inky pools staring at me…not gonna lie, drell do have awesome eyes. "I came here to start a medical clinic," he explains, snapping me out of trance-like stare into his eyes. "The hanar trained me in medicine, amongst other things, and I left to seek out those in the galaxy who needed my help. Omega seemed a good choice. However, circumstances setting up here were…problematic. There were altercations between myself and mercenary groups." His previously confident smile is gone now, replaced by a slight frown.

"We shouldn't talk about it if you don't want to," I say quickly, not wanting to push the point in our first meeting. "I don't want you to slip into solipism."

Montague looks unsure for a second, then nods. "Perhaps you are right. We should not talk about that kind of thing before a mission, anyway. Speaking of which…"

I take a quick glance at the time on my omni-tool. I've still got a little while until the shuttle leaves…but I need to get my armour and weapons sorted out, plus I don't want to be the last one at the Kodiak. Reluctantly, I rise to my feet. So far, Montague seems cool, so I'll definitely be coming back here. I mean, I'll almost certainly be here through injuring myself or something, but if not I'm returning of my own volition. "I do need to put some stuff together. It was really good meeting you."

"Likewise," he says, again inclining his head to me slightly. I think it's a mark of respect or something…so I do the same back. "Before you leave, though, I have a question. You mentioned solipsism to me…I didn't realise it was something many humans knew of."

Shit, three years and I'm still displaying knowledge I shouldn't…time to fall back on the old excuse. "It's not," I shrug. "But I'm interested in different cultures. Amazing what you can find on Omnipedia."

The drell nods, his curiosity obviously sated. "I see. Drell often travel to different places to experience the cultures of other races. It's part of the reason I travelled here."

"I'd love to travel," I admit. And I really, really would. C-Sec kept me on the Citadel, there wasn't exactly much time to holiday when I was going around with Shepard…and there's so many places I haven't seen yet. Palaven, Sur'Kesh…maybe after everything with the Reapers is over, I'll get my chance.

"You would like Kahje, I think," Montague smiles. "Though there is always rain there."

"Eh, I'm British," I shrug. "Rain can't faze me."

He laughs at that again, turning back to his terminal as he does so. "Of course. Good luck on your first mission, Ian. If Arashu truly protects you, perhaps Amonkira favours you too."

"I'll take all the help I can get," I smile. That's one god I do remember… "And the Lord of Hunters would be a useful ally. I'll see you later, Montague." The drell nods, and the med-bay door slides shut behind me as I step back into the house, and start to stride off towards my equipment locker. I might not believe in his gods…but having a drell tell me Arashu and Amonkira are watching me is oddly reassuring. Makes me think about Thane's prayer, anyway.

_Amonkira, Lord of Hunters. Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift._

And should the worst come to pass, at least let me blow some shit up.

**A/N: Yay for getting some interactions in! Obviously all the characters are important, but you should already be able to guess which ones are gonna show up slightly more than others. ****Everyone will get their turn, though, so don't worry! (Actually, it's kind of a long story…so they'll probably get several turns).**

**So, that's the plan laid out. Next chapter, we tackle the first real Omega mission…and the campaign to bring down Thralog Mirki'it begins. Fun stuff.**

**Also, I should point out the idea of 'Omnipedia' (the future version of Wikipedia) belongs to TheRev28, who's writing a rather brilliant story called 'Welcome to The Family'. Which you should all read.**

**I know I sound like a broken record saying this, but thanks for reading and reviewing. ****I really appreciate it.**

**Later!**


	11. Ian vs The Emergency Hatch

Chapter 11

Jet: Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

The urban sprawl hurtles by below us as Vortash skilfully navigates through enormous skyscrapers and traffic, the noise of wind rushing past almost blocking out the sounds of Omega's night, thumping bass from various clubs and the hubbub of life broken up from time to time by the sounds of gunfire, or perhaps a scream. I glance down, catching a quick glimpse of a pack of vorcha swarming towards a derelict looking building, the area around them lit up by gunfire. I don't think I even want to know what's going on down there…

"So," I say, putting a clip into my handgun and looking up at all the other faces on the Kodiak, "how're we going to do this?"

"Two pronged attack," Garrus replies simply, not even bothering to look up from his rifle. "Sidonis, Butler and Weaver are going to go around to the side of the compound and blow a hole through the wall, so we can pincer the people inside. You and I are going through the front door."

"And what am I supposed to be doing?"

"Do what you do best," he replies, sounding amused.

"Get shot?"

"You know what I mean," the turian laughs. "You and me, taking down illegal shipments again. Just like old times."

"Aye, cos the rest of us are no' doing anything important, are we?" Butler says sarcastically from his seat. "Bet you didn't have an explosives expert following you around back then."

I shrug. "Stuff tends to blow up around us anyway. It's not like we needed one." Garrus nods in agreement at that, as the rest of the squad laugh. Even the usually serious Weaver manages to crack a smile. "Though this might be a bit trickier than it was at C-Sec."

"Too right," Butler replies. "You Citadel people are soft bastards, anyway. Omega'll show you a real barney." All the aliens in the shuttle look confused at that. "Real fight."

"I don't doubt that," I mutter, thinking back to the meeting with Aria. The expression 'kill or be killed' really springs to mind here. "Still, I've survived this long, so I must be doing something right."

"This is a whole different kind of warfare to what you're used to," Weaver says gruffly. I don't know how a salarian of all races manage to sound gruff, but I'll be damned if he doesn't manage it. "Garrus told us about working with Shepard. Extended firefights like what you're used to aren't going to work here."

"He's right," Sidonis adds. "Almost this entire asteroid is out to kill us. We can destroy a base if we move quickly, but five of us aren't going to be able to cope with all the reinforcements they can throw at us."

I nod my head. It makes sense, obviously. Despite the fact I'm sure we're all good fighters, we can't just face down the merc groups head on. There's thousands of them, and twelve of us. Bloody hell, just thinking that makes me shiver slightly…but tactically, we can still do this. "Guerrilla warfare tactics, right? Quick strikes without engaging in full blown fighting?"

"Exactly," Garrus says, smiling slightly. "The groups are prepared for full on warfare with the other merc groups, not a team of twelve people. They've got the numbers, but we've got the mobility so they can't use that to their advantage." No wonder he was able to cause all the trouble he seemed to have managed in Mass Effect 2. They don't know who we are, just that we exist, and that we sabotage their operations. It's crazy how a group of vigilantes can do this much damage with so few people…

"There's a few targets in this place," Weaver says, bringing my attention back onto the task at hand. "So I'm not going to be able to set these charges all by myself before their reinforcements arrive. We should be able to cause maximum damage by setting explosives in these locations…" He quickly inputs a few commands into his omni-tool, and brings up an aerial view of the spaceport, and starts pointing to four highlighted locations. "The main storage units are located here. Setting these charges is easy, just press in this button until the light on the detonator turns green. Then don't touch the detonator until I give you the order, understood?"

"Aye," Butler chuckles. "Just because we're not explosive experts doesn't mean we dinnae know how to arm a basic explosive. We're no' total idiots."

"I've yet to see definitive proof of that," Weaver mutters. Either Butler doesn't hear him, or he just chooses not to reply. Probably for the best.

"Alright," Garrus nods, small smile on his face from Weaver's little jab at the Scot. "Ian and I will rig the containers closest to the front door, then work our way towards the rest of you in the middle of the compound. From there, we'll exfiltrate through the breach location you three came through. This should be a five minute operation, in and out. Don't go chasing mercenaries for the sake of it. We want to leave survivors, after all."

I give him a bit of a confused look at that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for minimum possible casualties, but it kind of seems to go against Garrus' mission statement around here. "Did you become a pacifist while I was away, or something?"

He laughs at that, mandibles widening and mouth opening slightly. Damn, turian teeth are _sharp_. I always forget that, for some reason. "Not exactly. We're doing this to make people worried about shipments going wrong. The more people we leave behind, the more people there are to spread the word about us targeting this kind of thing."

"In a place as big as this, rumours can go out of proportion all too quickly," Sidonis adds. "It's bad for the mercs, it's perfect for us."

"Good thinking," I nod. The mercenaries did always seem to think of Archangel like some mythical being that came out of nowhere and messed their shit up…I guess this is how he did it. Playing the rumour mill. "How heavily guarded is this place?"

"They've got a walled perimeter around the majority of the place," Weaver says, "which is only broken where ships come in to dock, here." He points to an open space towards the right hand side of the entrance, near to one of our targets. "Usually, there's a unit of about twenty guards somewhere like this. Two of them will be posted on the main gate."

I glance over at Garrus. "I don't think they're just going to let us waltz in there."

"They're not," the turian says confidently. "But I've got a plan."

############

"So far, this is a really shit plan."

Garrus and I are calmly walking towards the two guards posted on the front of the gate, who are giving us glares as we draw closer and closer to them. Two youngish looking humans, one with a shaved head and expression that just screams 'hired muscle', the other with studs through his lip and nose, cocky look on his face as his hands toy with his assault rifle. I think he's trying to intimidate us, which is kinda funny. He has no idea what he's getting himself into…

"Just follow my lead," the turian mutters back. "Weaver should be in position by now. We'll talk to these guys, he'll breach through, and we'll knock them out when they're distracted. The gate should be an easy hack." Both of us have our helmets on, so we can't so each other's expression. Which is probably good, since I'm giving him a fairly unimpressed look. I was thinking it was going to be something sophisticated, not just knocking them out when they're not looking. Though I guess the simple plans are sometimes the best ones.

The guards on the front door brandish their weapons as we finally stop and stand in front of them, giving us challenging looks. They obviously don't know who we are, which I guess is good. We probably won't have that luxury in a few months. Or weeks. "Take another step, and we'll drop you, alright?" the guy with the facial piercings says. I think I'll call him Stud.

Garrus and I just fold our arms and stand there, surveying them calmly underneath the helmets. The bald bloke just grunts in mocking laughter. "So, uh, what's your deal, you guys got a death wish?"

"Maybe," I shrug.

Stud glares at me. "Smart guy, huh? Look, you're gonna leave here, either walking yourself or in a body bag. The question is-"

Garrus takes a threatening step forward. "The only question here is which one of you wants to die first."

"Work it out between yourselves," I say. "I'll give you five seconds."

"Hey, you've got _four _seconds to turn around and scuttle the fuck out of here, you got me?" Stud replies incredulously, eyes bulging in fury as he looks at me.

"You know what," I say threateningly, pointing at him. "I revoke my offer. You die first." I'm having way too much fun doing this…and I suspect Garrus is too.

"Now," I hear Garrus say, the voice coming through my comms headset. Which means he's giving that order to-

There's a huge explosion which seems to rock the very platform the whole base is built upon, making Stud scream like a bitch as he and his friend turn around to survey the pillar of flame rising into the sky, and listen to the sound of rubble impacting the ground. I take about half a second to enjoy the sight of the explosion myself, then bring out my handgun and smack Stud around the back of the head with it, sending the guy crumpling to the floor unconscious. Garrus takes care of the guy next to me in the same way, then steps over their prone bodies and brings up his omni-tool to begin hacking the gate.

"I seriously hope all the mercs around here are that stupid," I mutter, gripping the pistol in both hands and pressing my back against the wall next to the gate, waiting for it to open.

"You'd be surprised," Garrus chuckles. "Gate opens in three, two, one…" It slides open rapidly, and I breathe in deeply. Here we go. "Move. Check your corners."

I spin around the wall and move quickly into the spaceport, holding my pistol up as I run lightly on the balls of my feet, Garrus behind me. The place is stacked high with huge shipping containers, giving it the appearance of a maze, but fortunately I've got the schematic loaded up on my omni-tool. Our first target is located about a hundred metres north-east of Garrus and I…but there's an obvious route on the map. Just gotta stick to left paths.

"They're probably beginning to mobilise," the turian mutters behind me. "Keep an ear out." Indeed, there's shouts from across the spaceport, as a droning alarm flares into life. I guess that means the clock's started, then…we don't have long before the reinforcements get here. Man, I hate time limits.

There's the sound of gunfire as I whirl around a corner, pistol primed and ready, aiming at nothing but air. _"We've engaged the enemy," _I hear Butler grunt in my ear. _"But these guys couldnae hit a cow's arse with a banjo." _I can't help laughing slightly at that, the sound muffled by my helmet.

"What is he talking about?" Garus asks, as I glance back down at my omni-tool. It's about fifty metres left to the target, taking into account the winding nature of this place. And there's still not been any resistance. Only a matter of time…

"He's saying they're inaccurate," I reply. "Amateurs, I guess."

The turian nods. _"Keep your guard up. Inaccurate or not, people still get lucky."_

"_Understood," _Sidonis says. I always thought I'd be hating the guy's guts straight away…but so far he's been one of the nicest people here. _"We've only seen four of them so far, and we're planting the first charge now. We'll move to the next one after this, but you've probably got people coming your way."_

"Thanks for the heads-up," I reply. Too bad I can't see what's around the corners here…

Wait a minute. Yes I can!

I hold up a fist for Garrus to stop, activating the sonar vision in the helmet. The whole area turns a dull grey, as the sonar pulse spread out…and highlights three humanoid figures advancing slowly towards us from behind the shipping container in front of us. The area they're in is quite wide, actually…so we'd probably have ran straight into them. Man, I love Laet.

"We've got three of them," I whisper to Garrus, disabling the external speakers on the helmet so it only goes through the comms network. "It's more of an open area through there, so we can probably get the drop on them. How do you want to do this?"

There's a slight pause. "Show me what you can do," he eventually replies. What? "This is a typical infiltration style situation. Take them down without them seeing you."

"Is now really the time for a bloody test?"

"If you don't think you can manage it…" He leaves that hanging in the air for a few seconds. Fuck, my pride is over-ruling my common sense…and I've got a fairly good idea of how to approach this. The containers around here aren't that tall, either, so I can clamber on top of one if needs be. And after I've been out for this long, I suppose I do have something to prove.

"Give me a minute," I say, imagining Garrus' smug expression as I approach the container separating us from the mercs and slowly poke my head around the corner. All human males, and they don't seem willing to advance too fast, two hanging back and facing opposite directions while one creeps slowly towards my positions. None are wearing helmets. This shouldn't be too tricky, especially since his pals aren't looking over here…

I quickly lean out, bring up the handgun and put a silenced round through his skull, then run and leap onto the nearest shipping container, grabbing on, heaving myself up, and just managing to lie prone as one of the mercenaries does a double take on his now dead buddy.

"Shit!" the guy shouts in surprise. There's a definite edge of fear to his voice, which is understandable, seeing as his comrade just got killed from seemingly nowhere. "Danny, you see this?"

"See wh-oh, FUCK!" the other man gasps, bringing up his assault rifle and pointing it around frantically. "They're here! One of them's here!" I'm not gonna get anywhere with him freaking out and pointing that damn thing everywhere…

"Calm down and watch where we came from!" his mate shouts. I silently thank him in my head. Poor bastard doesn't know what he just did. "I'm gonna check the body. Watch my back!" Danny's still shaking as he aims back at the direction the mercs came from, back firmly turned away from me, as his friend advances towards the body. Right under my location. Perfect.

I jump down on top of him, easily knocking him to the floor, and ram my boot into his face before he can react, his head impacting the floor with an almighty crack. Danny looks over…but not quick enough. I bring up my pistol and loose off three shots. One impacts his chest and shields, one narrowly goes over his shoulder, the other goes through his face. The blood splatter on the container behind him makes me wince slightly as he falls to the ground, but I ignore it as best I can and take a frantic sweep around the area with the pistol. No targets left.

"Nice work," Garrus says, appearing from our original position. "Aerial takedown, two headshots, and they didn't even know what hit them. Melanis has been training you well."

"I like to think some of my own skill comes into it, rather than just her teaching," I shoot back, smiling under the helmet. To be fair, most of that is down to her training, but I don't want to admit it. Last thing I want to do is encourage her. From here, it's a straight run to a significantly more hefty looking container than the other ones around here. Bigger, wider, separate from the rest of them…yeah, it's probably something important. Doesn't really matter what, though, time to blow it the hell up!

Garrus quickly brings out the charge, glancing around himself as he places it on the container and holds down a button on it. The things don't exactly look like much, small explosives about as big as a hardback book, but if Weaver says they're going to do the job I don't want to hang about when they go off. I drop the clip from the handgun and slide one back in as he plants it. Gotta remember to actually reload these days…

"_We've definitely got the brunt of them," _I hear Weaver say, as Garrus stands back up and gives me a nod. Right, time for the next target! _"Most of the mercs came running for our breach."_

"Is that some kind of a surprise?" I ask. "You did blow a massive hole in the perimeter. We just walked through the front gate."

"_I'm not complaining," _he replies, steel in his voice. _"I was hoping for some opposition." _Weaver's quickly replacing Kirrahe as the most badass salarian I know…which is quite impressive on his part. Garrus and I break into a run at the news, since presumably we don't have to worry so much about mercs. Can't exactly complain that we're not getting shot at, mind, so at least that's something. The map's showing the next location about a hundred away, so it shouldn't take too lon-

I'm still looking at the omni-tool as I hurtle around a corner…and straight into an armoured mercenary, making both of us stumble back slightly. I look up, directly into the four eyes of a batarian, who's look of shock is quickly replaced by a snarl as he reaches for his pistol, a fraction of a second quicker than I go for my knife…

Then Garrus barrels past me, smacking the gun in the batarian's hand and knocking it away, then doubling him up with a kick in the guts. Before he can even fight back, Garrus grabs the back of his head with a gloved talon and rams him facefirst into a shipping container with an almighty crunching noise. The batarian actually leaves a blood smear as he slides down it, previously normal face reduced to a pulp.

"Damn," I say in surprise, looking up at Garrus, then the batarian. He's still breathing, but only just. "He's definitely gonna have to pay for sex from now on."

"I think that's the least of his worries," the turian chuckles, then his tone becomes strict. "You need to watch where you're going. If there'd been just two of them, that might have been it for you." He does have a really good point, there…even if we're better equipped, I can't get complacent. Paranoia has kept me alive for this long, so I probably shouldn't lose sight of that.

"I'll try not to fuck up anymore," I say apologetically, trying to lighten the mood slightly as we set off again. We're around the middle of the compound, now…front gate is basically straight down from us. Halfway to the next target…

"Don't try, just do it," Garrus snaps. I wait for a few seconds for an apology…which doesn't come. Huh. Then again, since he's in charge now, I guess he does have to be a bit of a hard-ass. And it was totally my bad, so I deserve it. I've got the next charge, so I hope I don't accidentally blow us to kingdom come…that'd be embarrassing.

"_Shit!" _Sidonis suddenly shouts over the radio, making Garrus and I both stop dead and look at each other. _"You know how we said we had the brunt of the mercenaries?"_

"Yes…" Garrus replies, slowly.

"_We've got __**all **__of them! There's got to be at least twelve of them here! The second target is rigged, but they came out of the cut when we finished that!" _I curse quietly under my breath. Looks like we're not the only ones who can be sneaky bastards…that or the mercs got lucky. That seems more likely, now that I think about it. "_We can take them, but we won't be going anywhere fast without some help!" _Garrus stands still for a split second, obviously coming to a decision, then nods at me.

"If they've got the mercs at their position, that gives you a straight run to plant the explosives. I'll go and help the others out. Set the charge, then get straight to the breach and back on the cruiser."

"Yeah, because I was planning on hanging about," I shoot back, getting a slight chuckle out of him. "Go show them how it's done." At that, Garrus takes off back through the containers, leaving me alone. All the gunfire is coming away from my location, though, and a quick sonar scan reveals no-one nearby. We've still got a few minutes before reinforcements, anyway.

I take off in a sprint through the makeshift container corridors, radio chatter blaring in my ear as the metres count down. As I slide unsteadily around a corner, unable to brake fast enough and having to brace myself against a container, I hear a '_scoped and dropped!' _through my earpiece, making me grin slightly. I guess he's caught up with them…and he's already started using those godawful lines. Something tells me Shepard won't be so impressed by them when she gets back…

The path ahead of me is clear to the ship docking area, though. No wall around here, so I can look out over the vast expanse of Omega stretching before me. Too bad I don't really have time to take in the view. Now, just got to find something to plant my explosives on and get the fuck up out of here-

"_I don't know what you're doing, but hurry up,"_ I hear a somewhat unfamiliar voice growl into my ear, unfriendly tone firmly in place. Is that…Vortash? Fuck, if something's got him to talk, it can't be good. _"You've got reinforcements on their way, moving in through the front gate. They must know it's Archangel's crew, because there's twenty or thirty of them."_

"_Shit," _Garrus says. _"What are they doing here? I thought we still had time!"_

"_We just got unlucky. There must have been a patrol nearby, because whatever time you thought you had is gone. Are you at the extraction point?"_

I quickly glance down at the map…and my heart sinks as I see my location in comparison to the extraction point. It's on an entirely different side of the compound, and the mercs are going to close up my route before I can even make a run for it. Shit! I glance around frantically, looking for a barricade, spare ship lying around. Nothing. Even if there was a ship, it's not like I could fly the damn thing!

"_We'll be there in about thirty seconds," _Sidonis says. _"Ian's on the other side of the compound. Can you get to the extraction point?" _I can feel my heartbeat rising as I hear the shouts of mercenaries drawing closer and closer, and they're definitely moving towards my location. I'm waiting for some flash of inspiration, the usual blind luck that pulls my ass out of the fire…but there's nothing. No no no, this can't be happening…

Shit. I'm freaking out. Just got to stay calm, and analyse the situation. I force in a few deep breaths, then get back on the comms. "That's a big negative. I've got reinforcements coming right towards me, and I don't fancy my chances against however many people you said just showed up."

"_Is there any other way you can get out of there?" _ It's Garrus this time, and there's a definite edge of worry to his voice. Hell, if he thinks he's panicking…

"Short of jumping off the edge of this spaceport, no," I shoot back, fear setting in again. "I know the armour has shock absorbers, but they're not _that _good!" There's an agonising pause of a few seconds, then Butler suddenly pipes up.

"_Vortash, the shuttle has an emergency hatch on the roof, right?"_

"_It does," _the turian replies gruffly. What the fuck is he-

Wait, I just mentioned jumping off the edge of the spaceport. And the roof of the cruiser opening…

"_I hope you're no' afraid of heights, Shaw, because you're gonnae need to man up if you are!"_

I take a glance over the edge of the spaceport, then back at the entrance to this place. It's a big, big drop. Hell, my head's swimming just looking at it. Then again, this is a chance of an out. I'd rather take my chances here than with the mercs…

"This has got to be one of the stupidest plans I've ever agreed to," I reply, inwardly cursing at my luck. Of all the people this would happen to, of _course _it's got to be me. "And that's saying something. I'll try and keep them distracted until they come around!"

"_Have you planted your charge?" _That's Weaver...and that's a not a good question to ask me.

"I'm most likely about to die, and you're asking if I've planted the charge? I have bigger priorities! Like living!"

"_There should be a fuel containers scattered about," _the salarian replies, obvious annoyance in his voice. _"You have a brain, Ian, use it! If you really need to buy some time, you can blow them up!"_

It takes me a few seconds to realise what he's getting at…then I see a huge sign above some canisters saying 'highly flammible'.

"Shit. That's convenient."

"_We're on our way!" _Garrus yells, then the line goes dead. Right, now or never! I dash over to the container, located right next to the entrance of the spaceport, basically hurl the charge down and press the button in. Come on come on come ON!

The light on the detonator _finally _turns green, as I get up and make a dash for the edge of the dock again. They've got to be able to see me-

"FREEZE!"

I slide to a halt, edges of my feet dangling over the edge, as I turn around slowly and look up at my adversary. Well, adversaries. There's got to be about twelve of them, a mixture of humans, turians and batarians, all pointing their weapons at me. Shotguns, assault rifles, oh my. They're obviously not wanting to gun me down, though…a member of Archangel's team is worth too much cornered like this.

Garrus did say part of the team's success was based on reputation, though. So, I could always try building one here…

"You know, I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up," I say non-chalantly, slowing raising my arms and putting them behind my head, detonator still concealed in the right. "These missions can get awfully dull without some drama like this."

"Surrender!" the turian who's presumably the leader yells, baring his mandibles presumably as some kind of intimidation thing, even though none of them seem to want to step towards me. Shit, are they…scared of me? Of scared I'm going to jump? Eh, either works.

"I've got my hands behind my head, dipshit, what does it look like I'm doing?" I say sarcastically. "Is this your first time doing this, or something?" I glance around at the rest of the mercs. "Is it?"

The turian fixes me with a glare. "You've killed our people here, scum. Make jokes all you want, you're gonna pay."

"To be fair, they did try to shoot me first," I shrug. "If you'd just let us walk in here and blow this place up, it wouldn't have been an issue. Plus, the guy who works for an organisation that thrives on illegal activity and oppressing innocents calling _me _scum? That's kind of ironic, don't you think?"

"Quiet!" the turian roars, and he actually does take a step forward this time, as do all the rest of the mercs. My first instinct is to take a step back too…but I quickly stop myself on realising that would send me straight off the edge. Bad idea. "You're not in control here, whoever you are!"

Whoever I am? Damn, did this guy just set me up for an alias? Though if Garrus gets one, I suppose I should too. And I've got something kind of fitting in mind. The guy who's name I'm borrowing knew he was in a comic, I know I'm sort of in a game, and it's badass regardless…

"Me?" I say, faking surprise, then laughing. "I'm Deadpool. You'll be wanting to remember that." I hear the faint hum of an engine, growing louder and louder with each passing second. I steal a quick glance to the right…and see the Kodiak advancing from under the platform. Looks like this is my cue…

The turian's eyes are burning as he moves slowly towards me, then change to surprise as I point to the fuel tanks behind him. "You know, that's some very nice fuel you have there." I take another glance down, and the cruiser's finally come to a halt under me, as Butler opens the roof hatch. Just got to step back and I'll fall through. This is so crazy! In a bad way! "It'd be a shame if something were to happen to it."

With that, I slam my finger down on the detonator, making the whole platform shake in a huge and deafening explosion as I step off. There's a horrible feeling of my stomach lurching as I fall, and for a second the awful thought I've missed occurs…then I impact the hard floor of the cruiser with a grunt of pain. Fuck, my legs! Nothing broken, but I'm gonna feel that later…

"Get us out of here, Vortash!" Garrus yells, as the pilot expertly pulls away from the scene. I glance back down at the spaceport to see the mercenaries struggling back to their feet from the blast…then turn around to see Garrus, Weaver and Sidonis holding their own detonators.

Oh yeah. There was more than one charge.

It's almost comical watching the mercs fall over each other again as three more explosions go off in the compound, turning the whole place into a burning beacon of smoke, pluming up above the red streets below and mingling with the black background of space. There's little fires all over it, and the port barely seems to be holding together from the fuel tank explosion…fucking hell, we did some damage.

I lean my head back against the wall, laughing slightly in euphoria and relief as I set the helmet to slide back into the neck of the armour, and the rest of the squad take theirs off too, exchanging grins and relieved looks. "Shaw, you are one crazy bastard for doing that," Butler says to me, admiringly. "You've got baws on you, son."

"If you ask a certain krogan I know, apparently I've got four of them," I laugh. "It's not a big deal. I've had so many brushes with Death now, I should start giving him high fives as I go past."

Garrus glances over at me, looking both pleased and relieved to see me. Hell, that's exactly how I'm feeling…yet another minor miracle allowed me to live through that. Arashu watching over me, indeed. "You alright?"

"The feeling I've got in my legs at the moment honestly lets me sympathise with Joker," I mutter, "but no permanent damage. How about the rest of you?"

"Nothing medi-gel won't fix," Sidonis mutters. "The merc groups can't ignore a strike like that, so we can expect prices to start shooting up soon. And we must have cleaned up at least some red sand and smuggled goods while we were there."

"That kind of haul would have taken months to get on the Citadel," Garrus says, looking pointedly at me. "Do you need any more convincing about this beating C-Sec?"

"You have a fucking bizarre way of convincing people, almost getting them killed," I reply. "But I guess you've proved your point." I catch the smug look on Garrus' face, making me chuckle as I sit back and finally relax my breathing. Target destroyed, mission complete, even if it's not quite how I saw it going. Then again, it never is. Plus, I've got my new alias.

As the cruiser swoops through traffic back towards our base, I can't help but smile slightly.

You'd better watch out, Mirki'it. Deadpool's coming for you.

**A/N: Good alias? It kinda makes sense, plus the actual Marvel character is awesome, so there you go. Plus he's good in Marvel vs Capcom 3 (and voiced by Nolan North), so that's a bonus.**

**Anyway, that's the first real mission done! Next up, squad interactions, since we've still got a hefty chunk who haven't even been introduced properly yet. Also, the next step in taking down Mirki'it is planned, and all that generally good stuff. Y'all be looking forward to that, now.**

**Almost 400 reviews already? Wow. Cheers guys and/or girls, it's fantastic. To quote Sheva from Resident Evil 5, "I owe you one." (I've honestly lost count of how many she apparently owes me.)**

**Bye!**


	12. Ian vs The Bottle

Chapter 12

One Night Only: Say You Don't Want It

"Shaw, for being the craziest bastard on that mission, I'm getting you a drink. What're you after?" Butler calls across to me from the fridge, as I settle down on a couch while some other squad members begin to drift into the room, obviously curious as to how the mission went. Butler still seems rather taken with me jumping through the roof hatch, which is bemusing, but it's kinda cool to have earned the big man's respect, so I'll go with that.

"Anything that doesn't have alcohol in it," I shout back.

"You dinnae drink?"

"Nope," I reply. "Though with what happened back at that spaceport, sometimes I really wish I did." He laughs at that, grabbing a bottle of what looks like beer for himself, then glances back at me.

"All we've got is Tupari." Why is that not a surprise, with Garrus as the leader around here…Obviously he'll be drinking dextro stuff, but that's not enough to stop him encouraging levo-amino people to try it too. I swear they have him on commission, or something. "You like orange?"

I nod back. I'd murder for an Irn-Bru right now, but Tupari ought to tide me over, even if the stuff is basically just sugar, additives and colouring. I wonder if they still make Bru, actually? It was the most popular drink in Scotland back in 2010, so if anyone's gonna know it'll be Butler. "It'll do. Got any Irn-Bru on this asteroid?"

"Nae such luck," he replies. "Apparently aliens cannae stomach the stuff, so barely anywhere stocks it out here. As if Omega wasn't crap enough." I let out a chuckle, as he leans back out the fridge with my bottle and chucks it over towards me. I put up a hand for the catch…

Then a talon intercepts it in mid-air, owner laughing as she walks past me. "Stick to water. You're on a training diet."

"What?" I gawp at Melanis. Admittedly, I did agree to her training diet since it essentially involves a whole lot of protein, which means I get to eat a ton, but soft drinks are out because they're 'full of shit', to quote Melanis. "Come on, Mel, not even to celebrate after a mission? One bottle of Tupari?"

"No," she says simply, but I see an amused expression playing around the edges of her mouth as she returns the bottle to the fridge. Mandibles widened, mouth slightly open, eyes expressing good humour. Small details, but hanging around turians for this long has let me pick up on these things. Butler just gives me an apologetic shrug when her back is turned to him. "You know what it says on your programme."

"What, are you worried I'm going to get a sugar rush or something? I'm not six years old, Melanis."

"You have the attitude of one."

"Oh, that's cute," I mutter. "Good one. You're just doing this to annoy me."

"And I'm doing an excellent job."

I let out a mixture of a groan and a growl at her, as Garrus walks in and sits down opposite me. "Good to see you two are getting along," he says sardonically. "Nice teacher/student relationship you have going."

"Fuck you," Melanis and I both say simultaneously, making him chuckle.

"At least you agree on some things," Garrus replies, shifting his position to get comfortable, crossing one leg over the other as some other squad members sit down with us. Vortash and Grundan Krul aren't here, unsurprisingly, but apart from that I think everyone's present. Probably wanting to hear how everything went back at the spaceport…

"We've made a good start on this operation," Garrus explains, as Melanis goes over to the sink and starts a tap running, bottle of some turian wine in one hand and an empty glass in the other. I smile to myself seeing that. Even if we're clashing over the Tupari, at least she's got the courtesy to get my alternative drink. "It was a little closer than I'd have liked, but we all made it out, and we did plenty of damage."

"Little closer?" Mierin, the nervous sounding salarian, asks. "Why, what went wrong?"

"Ian got separated from the rest of us," Sidonis says. I feel like facepalming as Melanis hands me my water, the female turian rolling her eyes at me with same amused look as before, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat as she barks out a sharp laugh. "Got trapped on a spaceport with about fifteen mercenaries pointing guns at him, but we got him back by opening the roof of the shuttle for him to drop into."

I can see Melanis opening her mouth to say something, almost certainly a joke or insult at my expense, so I step in before she can. "I should point out this really wasn't my fault. Garrus ordered me to go on alone, the mercs showed up out of nowhere. Besides, it let me do a bit of reputation building."

"You never mentioned this on the ride back," Weaver says, scar across his face moving as he frowns. I'm picking up a cynical attitude from the salarian, and a glance around the room shows other people are sharing that, but I do my best to ignore them. "What's 'reputation building' supposed to mean?"

"I've got an alias," I exclaim proudly. "Deadpool."

The squad members just gawp at me for a few seconds, a mixture of shocked or just confused expressions filling the room, before everyone suddenly erupts into laughter and I feel myself blushing furiously. "You don't like it?"

"Aye, I love it," Butler manages to gasp in between fits of laughter. "It's so shite it's funny."

"What?" Everyone's still laughing, and I'm feeling more and more embarrassed. "Does anyone else have a better suggestion?"

"You have a dragon on your armour," Erash points out. "Something to do with that would have been logical." I take a quick glance at the laughing turian, white paint spread across his face in the shape of a cross. Still don't know much about him, just that he's a sniper, and he seems an alright guy. Though I'm confused as to how a turian knows what a dragon is.

"Or base it off colour," Mierin suggests. He's normally quite timid, but the group atmosphere seems to have perked him up considerably. "Red, for example. It would have been suitable."

Melanis nods at that. "Mierin's got a point. That might have worked better."

Butler takes a swig of beer, lets out a contented burp, then looks at me. "Garrus' alias is angelic. Would've been canny if you'd picked something demonic."

"Berial," Weaver mutters. "I remember hearing that in relation to fire once. After the way you left that spaceport, that would have been perfect." There's a chorus of people saying stuff along the lines of 'oh, yeah' at that. I thought people would really go for Deadpool, but they're tearing it to pieces! Not cool!

"Look, I've said it now!" I protest. "You want me to ring the merc groups back at tell them I've changed my mind?" I put on a mocking tone and mime a phone conversation. "Sorry guys, made a bit of an error with the whole Deadpool thing. Apparently it's a shit name, and I'd like to change, so if you can put out a memo to everyone and-"

"I think we've made our point," Garrus interrupts, chuckling as he raises a talon. "Besides, it's growing on me already. Deadpool has a nice ring to it."

"Glad one of us thinks so," Melanis says, tone gently mocking me as she rises to her feet. Damn that woman! "Thanks for the drink. If that's everything, I've got weapons to prepare…"

Garrus shakes his head. "We're not done just yet. Mirki'it's still out there, and this campaign is just beginning." That's right…the raid was all part of the bigger plan, after all. Considering one raid almost killed me, I can't wait to see what else is in store. "We need to plan our next move."

"One spaceport attack isn't going to get prices up enough," Sidonis points out. "We'll need to sabotage other shipments."

Erash clears his throat. "We still have the other aspects of the business to look at. We need to move on everything at once, not just driving up import prices."

"I know," Garrus says, sounding impatient, brow plates furrowed and mandibles flexing in mild frustration. "So I'm going to split the squad up into different tasks. We need to keep the pressure on merc shipments, so I'm going to lead a team doing that. Butler, Weaver, Sidonis and…another sniper wouldn't hurt, so Erash too. We'll be keeping this up every night until I see those prices rise, so you're all going to be busy." There's a few groans from the people he just named, though it's mainly Butler making them.

So, I've been dropped from the assault team? "Did I not perform up to standard or something?" I ask, unable to help sounding offended. Garrus just chuckles.

"Considering how long you've been out, you exceeded my expectations. But I need you to see all the aspects of what we do here," he explains. "We still don't have all the information I'd like about Mirki'it's production lines, any factories he has, plus we need to encourage the actual dealers on the streets to find a new line of work. You can go out with Melanis and 'ask' a few questions."

Great, interrogation work. With Melanis. I can already tell this is gonna be such fun. "It's a date," I mutter, getting a few grins from around the group.

"It's a babysitting job," Mel says sardonically, giving Garrus a glare. "Cheers, Archangel." I honestly don't know what it'll take for me to prove myself to her. Maybe it won't even be possible, but that's not gonna stop me trying. Babysitting job…that's just bloody rude.

"I'll send out Grundan and Mierin too," Garrus continues, just ignoring Melanis. That definitely seems like an odd pairing, considering how timid Mierin seems, but I guess they can play good cop, bad cop. Or something like that. "We can keep that up for a week or so, along with the attacks. That should raise prices, and we can use the information we get from interrogations to find the best way to eliminate his production. Does anyone have any problems with that?" Mel begins to open her mouth, which he catches sight of. "Anyone except Melanis?"

There's a chorus of laughter again, along with people shaking their heads, as Melanis narrows her eyes. Well, at least that's one back on her… "Alright. You all deserve a break after that mission, and it's getting late, so we'll start up with new missions in the morning. Dismissed." We all get to our feet as the squad starts to file out of the room, but I catch a quick glimpse of Mierin and jog after him. I've barely talked to the salarian, and if he's working with Grundan Krul, maybe they get along. The batarian's being avoiding me ever since I got here, so any kind of route into conversation would be nice, plus I don't really know Mierin that much yet.

"How you doing, man?" I ask, tapping him on the shoulder, and making the salarian jump in shock. Wow…he's even more jumpy than I am. Which is saying something. "Besides from having a heart attack there."

"You shocked me," he replies unsteadily, shocked expression on his face slowly dying away. "I was joking about your alias, you understand. Nothing meant by it."

"I know," I grin. Did he think I was coming for revenge? "Don't worry about it. You were funny."

"Really?" Mierin exclaims. "Thank you." He seems to perk up a bit when I say that, body language loosening off as he smiles. "It's just that we hadn't been introduced properly, so I didn't know if you'd like the joking…" I raise an eyebrow at him, making the salarian chuckle. "I'm rambling. Sorry."

I laugh too, reaching out a hand for him to shake. "Just relax, Mierin. Normally I'm supposed to be the one who's nervous meeting new people. You know who I am, right?"

"Yes," he says, nodding his head enthusiastically. "I knew who you were before you even got here." Whoa, what? He'd better not be the Conrad Verner to my Shepard… "You and Garrus were C-Sec legends."

It takes me a moment to put two and two together, before I break out into a broad grin. "You're C-Sec?"

"Was C-Sec," Mierin corrects. "It would appear Garrus wasn't the only one to get sick of the bureaucracy there, though."

"That's what brought you to Omega?" We're both leaning on a wall overlooking the connecting bridge now, gently illuminated by the light from the house. It's funny how Omega can look so nice sometimes…though we're more or less secluded from the reality of things here. "You were looking to help people without rules getting in the way?"

He shakes his head. "Not quite, but it played a role. There was a suspect who got away from me on the Citadel."

"You were a detective?"

"Uniform. But I was helping the organised crime unit, looking into C-Sec corruption." I remember the organised crime guys from a few cases…often contraband and what they were doing crossed over, so we'd help each other out. Or try and take each other's glory. Good times. I don't remember ever seeing Mierin, though, so I guess they got him in as a one time thing. "Some senior officials were taking much more money than their salaries would account for."

"Senior officials?" I ask quickly, thinking about Pallin. Fuck, I hope I didn't make a bad call… "Anyone I would know?"

"I don't think so," Mierin shrugs. "The Executor wasn't involved, anyway." I breathe a sigh of relief. "We knew who was behind the whole thing. A human crime lord with ties to the mercenaries was paying them off. He was called Mal Reynolds."

"How'd you know it was him?"

"He was flaunting it in front of us," the salarian explains. For someone sounding so timid before, there's a real anger in his voice as he details the events. "He had the resources, the motivation, and he taunted us in interviews. 'Catch me if you can'. That's what he said. But the accounts were untraceable, and we couldn't stick a thing on him. The officials were made to resign quietly, but we never caught the man behind it all. We were still checking his movements, though, and he came to Omega."

"And you followed," I say, nodding my head. We've got ourselves a regular Garrus Vakarian here…

"I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do," Mierin says, previous nervous tone returning. "I'd never broken any rules before, always followed regulations, kept to myself. But…it just seemed wrong letting him get away when I knew he was guilty."

I whistle under my breath. "So you came to Omega, by yourself, to get justice. You're a brave man, Mierin."

"Or a stupid one," he counters. "I didn't know what I was doing. I tried asking around for him, but he had a lot of friends on Omega, and I was asking the wrong people. I made a lot of enemies."

"Is that how you met Garrus?"

"In a manner of speaking. I had a group of thugs chasing me through the streets one night. They were on Reynolds' pay, since they came after me as soon as I started asking questions. They would have caught me, if Archangel hadn't caught them first. He asked me why they were chasing me, and I explained the situation."

"I'm not surprised he wanted to help," I mutter. "He's always hated suspects getting away from C-Sec."

Mierin nods. "That's what he told me. He said I was brave for coming to Omega to bring Reynolds down. That I was the kind of person he wanted on his team. We found Reynolds easily enough. Killed him." He doesn't sound incredibly satisfied at that…

"Is that what you wanted?"

"I'd rather have brought him to justice normally," Mierin admits. "But that's not how Omega works. It was that or letting him walk free, and I couldn't do that." I nod my head in agreement. I've always been big on taking suspects alive…but that won't do us any good around here. "I've been with Garrus ever since. That was two months ago, and they've trained me up for infiltration. Like you."

Wow, that's the first person who's actually explained to me why they're on the squad. Sweet! "I'm not surprised he wanted you on the squad. That's incredible, Mierin. Coming out to Omega by yourself like that…you're more courageous than most people, that's for sure." Myself included. I'd never have done what he did, no way.

"I don't feel brave," he says, letting out a humourless laugh. "This place isn't what I'm used to. I want to help fight the mercs, and it's what I'm going to do, but everything around here makes me so nervous. I don't see how I can be brave when I'm feeling scared by all this."

Oh, I can't just leave that hanging there. Especially after reading Game of Thrones. "That's the only time you can be brave," I say, giving him a reassuring smile. The salarian looks at me for a few seconds, then laughs properly, smiling back. Once he's calmed down, I address him again. "You know, if you're not comfortable with all this, you shouldn't stay. I don't think any of us want to force someone into doing this."

"No," Mierin says firmly, shaking his head. "This is what I want to do. People here need our help, and I'm not going to let my nerves get in the way of that." I actually feel inspired listening to him talk…I mean, he's scared and all, but he's putting it to one side for the greater good. Not for revenge on the mercs, but because he wants to help people.

"You're a good man, Mierin," I say, slapping him on the back lightly. "Omega needs people like you."

"I'm sure there's plenty of nervous salarians around," he chuckles. "But thanks. If the stories I've heard about you and Garrus are true, it's going to be good working with you on the missions. I might learn something."

Stories about us? Okay, now I'm intrigued. "What kind of things have you heard?"

"Blowing up a spaceport on that elcor killer," he says, sounding excited.

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

"The raid on Club Ramrod?"

"I would've died if the cavalry hadn't shown up."

"Taking down Ricardo Fernandez?"

"I actually did die on that one."

Mierin shakes his head. "You don't have to be modest about it."

"It's true!" I protest. "Montague said drell gods must be watching over me to have survived this long, and I think he might be onto something. My bad luck usually gets me into bad situations, then my good luck gets me out of them."

"Then try not to drag me into those situations with you," Mierin says, and I think he's only half-joking. "You shouldn't worry about these interrogation missions, though. Melanis will show you what to do."

I chuckle at that. "Aye, she's a good teacher. Even if we like annoying each other a little too much. You and Grundan Krul get along?"

"He talks to me," Mierin replies. "So you could say that. I started out kind of scared of him, but he's not a bad person. Just very…focused."

Mierin's not scared of him, but I am? That's some messed up logic right there. "He doesn't seem to think much of me," I point out.

"He doesn't trust humans easily," the salarian says. "And he's not exactly friendly with me, either. Just give it some time, he'll talk to you eventually. On his own terms." I'll take his word for it…but if Grundan wants to be left alone, that's his call. Considering I thought Wrex was a tough nut to crack, this seems almost hopeless. Same with Vortash. "I don't know anyone better with tech, though."

"We've got most specialities around here," I mutter, thinking out loud. "No biotics, mind…"

"What?" Mierin says, sounding shocked. "We do. Erash is biotic."

I raise an eyebrow at that. "The turian?"

"Is there another Erash?"

A biotic turian? They're incredibly rare, if memory serves…in fact, I don't think I've ever seen one before. I was already going to go visit him to find out how he knows about dragons, but this has definitely piqued my interest. "Why'd no-one mention this before?"

"I didn't think it was important," Mierin says, nervous tone creeping in again. "Sorry." Shit, I probably came across as angry there…

"I'm not mad," I say quickly. "Just came as a surprise. I haven't really talked to him much."

"Maybe you should," Mierin suggests. "I need to go and see Grundan about tomorrow's mission, so I need to cut this short." He smiles apologetically. "It was good talking to you. And it proves some of the stories were right, too."

I give him a confused look. "Which ones?"

"They said you were a nice person," he says, smiling again. "I'll see you later, either here or on a mission." I can't help but grin as he turns around and walks off through the house. He seems like a genuinely good guy who got caught up in all of this…and he's fighting for the right reasons. Plus he's an infiltrator too.

Yeah, I think the two of us are going to get along just fine.

##########

I eventually find Erash in the sleeping quarters, lying back on his bunk with a datapad in hand, just scrolling through it. There's no-one else around just yet, but he's obviously engrossed in whatever he's reading, since he doesn't even notice me until I take a seat on the edge of the bed. His mattress is hard as rock, of course…gotta love turian ideas of comfort.

"What'cha reading?" I ask, as he looks up and fixes me with his beady eyes. He looks pleased to see someone else, though, as he locks the screen and places it to one side.

"It's an old book. You probably haven't heard of it," he says, but it's in a kind voice, not the usual patronising tone people use when saying that. 'Old' things are my speciality around here, though…

"How old?"

Erash takes less than a second to work it out. "Two hundred and two years." He's obviously got a head for numbers…intelligent guy. That's cool. And a book that old is definitely in my range.

"Try me," I shrug. "I might have heard of it."

"Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption," he says. The Shawshank Redemption? Oh my God, Erash has just become a total bro, no matter what he does now. "I know it's old, and-"

"It's awesome, that's what it is," I reply, grinning. "I read it a long time back, but it's great."

"Indeed," the turian nods, obviously happy I've heard of it. "Human literature is usually very good. We have turian novelists, but they lack a certain…something." He looks annoyed when he thinks that, eyes narrowing. "I can't quite place what it is. I don't normally read anything this old, but I'd heard it was a masterpiece." Good to see some things haven't changed, even after this long… "Do you read, Ian?"

"I haven't for a while," I admit. "Never really found the time recently. I did a lot when I was younger, though, always liked the older books."

Erash settles back in the bed. "Yes. The historical aspect is interesting, too…when your people believed other species in this galaxy were simply a myth." He chuckles at the thought.

"Speaking of myths," I say, "how'd you know about the dragon on my armour? Most turians wouldn't recognise something like that."

"I've read my fair share of your 'fantasy' novels, Ian," he explains patiently. "The shape was familiar to me straight away. It's good. Symbolic of a defender, of courage."

There's something fascinating about how he talks…I don't think Erash is that old, but there seems to be an incredible wisdom behind what his words. Given how much he seems to read, and how fast he worked out the difference in years, he's clearly clever. A fierce intelligence burns behind his eyes as he looks at me. "I picked the dragon because it looked kinda badass," I finally shrug, "but I guess the symbolism works too."

He lets out a chuckle at that, amused expression slipping back onto his face. "That's a valid reason. Human legends are interesting. You seem somewhat taken with your elves, dwarves, dragons…"

"Not everyone is," I point out. "But I liked that genre. If you don't mind me saying, you must have a hell of a lot of spare time to be this well read."

"That's fair comment," he replies. "I have a passion for reading. I admit, I'm something of a loner. It comes with being a biotic."

I give him a curious look. "Does it?"

"In the turian military, yes," he responds. "Biotics are…not always fully trusted by normal soldiers. We're put in specialist teams called Cabals, and I found I had a lot of time to read during my time there. I started with turian authors, but discovered you can learn a lot about other cultures through their literature. It was a hobby, and a distraction."

"Distraction from what? Did you not like the military?"

"It…disagreed with me," Erash says slowly. He's obviously reluctant to talk about it. Just like everyone else around here. I can't blame them, but it's becoming infuriating with everyone stonewalling me. An awkward silence hangs in the air, and I glance around for something else to talk about, eyes falling on the sniper rifle propped up on the wall next to his bed.

"So, you're a sniper?" I ask. It's painfully obvious he is, but at least it makes conversation.

He nods. "Yes. I've always preferred it as a weapon. Precise and lethal, and you can always calculate where a round is going to end up."

"Well, not quite," I say, chuckling. "If it's windy, or the bullet naturally drops over a distance..."

"Then you calculate for that," Erash says, sounding a little confused I haven't caught on here.

I roll my eyes. "What, you're saying I should be able to calculate a bullet's trajectory in my head?"

"Yes." The turian's mandibles widen in the equivalent of a toothy grin as he looks at my shocked expression. "It requires precision and focus to control biotics, something that carries over to sniping. I've always had an affinity with numbers, anyway, so the calculations are simple enough with some practice."

"That's not possible," I say firmly, shaking my head. "You're pulling my leg."

The turian takes a few seconds to respond, presumably remembering the idiom. "You don't have to believe it. But I don't miss. That's all you need to know." I'm struggling to believe what he's saying is even possible...but the quiet confidence in his voice and expression are making me think otherwise. Looks like Erash is our Hawkeye, in that case. Man, I need to stop comparing people to comic characters...first I give myself the whole Deadpool thing, Erash is basically Hawkeye, Garrus may as well be the turian Batman who kills people...I guess that's cool.

"You've still got to miss sometimes," I say. "Even if you can calculate it like you say you can, you've still got to make a mistake some time."

"That's flawed logic," Erash replies, "but go on."

"How do you fancy a bet?"

He shakes his head, laughing. "I would be stealing your money. Leave it be." I'm half-tempted to...but now I've come this far with it, I may as well go all the way and insist. It can't be right. Everyone misses.

"Next mission we're both on. If you miss with one shot, I get...five hundred credits. If you make them all hit, I'll give you five hundred."

"Done," he says immediately. "I would like to do it for every mission we're both on, actually." Bloody hell, he's confident, but that works for me. How good can he be?

"Alright," I nod, rising to my feet. I think we've exhausted most of the conversation for now...and I don't want to keep him from his reading. "Good luck, mate, because you're seriously going to need it."

Erash shakes his head, still chuckling away. "Luck isn't a factor. It was nice meeting you, Ian. I suspect this will be a very profitable deal we've struck." Ah, he's just talking smack. I hope. I give him a small wave goodbye, then head out into the corridor, looking downstairs. The seating and kitchen area seems to be empty, since I think everyone's getting ready to get some sleep.

I could do with a drink. Something that isn't water.

I take another glance around. No sign of anyone. And a Tupari would really hit the spot right now.

I softly pad down the stairs on the balls of my feet, sticking to the shadows as I move over to the fridge and take another look around. I swear I heard someone move nearby...but it's probably one of the squad members in an adjacent room. The room's deserted except for me.

I quickly open the fridge, grab a bottle, and gleefully begin unscrewing the top as I turn around...to the sound of a tactical cloak powering down, and the sight of the barrel of a handgun pointing straight into my face.

"Drop the bottle, and we'll forget this ever happened," Melanis says.

Fuck.

**A/N: That's Mierin and Erash introduced properly for you! Will that bet bite Ian in the ass. No, of course not...**

**There'll be more character interactions on the way, obviously, but next chapter Ian and Melanis head out into Omega to start some 'information gathering'. Which makes Garrus' interrogations at C-Sec look like a tea party. Fun!**

**It's...over...400 reviews! Which is cool. Especially since this fic now has more than MtM1 does, which is bizarre, but totally awesome. Thank you!**

**On the bad news front, I leave to go on holiday/vacation for a week on August 9th. Which means I _might _not get an update out before I leave. I'll definitely try for one, though.**

**See you next time!**


	13. Ian vs The Enhanced Interrogation

Chapter 13

Danny Baranowsky: Devil N' Bass

Interrogation missions. Man, this ought to be good.

I'm slouching at a counter in the kitchen, scraping butter along some toast as the rest of the squad tuck into their various meals behind me. Butler's tucking into a full Scottish breakfast, and most of the squad seem to be indulging in some kind of cooked meal, plates piled high with the stuff. The smell permeating the air does make my mouth water slightly…but I'm stuck with toast, because we ran out of that stuff by the time I got down for breakfast, since _someone _sabotaged my alarm to go off thirty minutes late.

I look over at Melanis, who's laughing at something Montague's said from next to her. I'm almost certain she's the culprit, screwing me over so I'd have to stick with toast or something…though the fact Butler's plate is so full means he's partially to blame too, since I reckon he's eating about half the fridge there. Still, I know better than to separate a Scotsman from his breakfast.

I groan quietly when I glance over at the table, and realise the only space left is next to Mierin. That's not so bad, but it's directly opposite Melanis. You know, just in case I wouldn't be seeing enough of her today. If these gods Montague talks about are watching over me, they definitely have a messed up sense of humour too. I slide the toast onto my plate, a pleasant heat on my fingers as I take my seat and give Melanis my best friendly smile.

"Ah, so you're finally awake!" she says, barely concealing her grin, mandibles widened and teeth pressed together. Montague's lips stretch out in a smirk too, edges of his mouth curling up. He was in on it too! Though at least he's being a bit more subtle about it, whereas Melanis is practically creasing opposite me. Those two are as thick as thieves…I wonder what it is between them. Montague's probably the better one to ask about that, if I talk to him alone at some point. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming. Shame Butler took the last of the bacon."

I'm about to ask how she knows what bacon is, then remember her Earth upbringing. "He took all of it, from the looks of things," I mutter, which causes Butler to laugh as he crams in a mouthful of fried egg and tomato. Where he puts that stuff, I will never know…though I bet Melanis and Montague put him up to taking all the food before I could get here. "I think we all know what happened here. Pranking the new guy. Really mature, everyone."

There's more laughter from around the table, and I even catch the faintest glimpse of a smile on Vortash's face, but it's gone almost as soon as it appeared. "I can spare some of it if you want, Shaw," Butler says with his mouth full.

"Nah," I smile, shaking my head. "Unless you can't manage it all."

The Scot raises his fork at me, grinning wide. "I'm taking that a personal challenge. Saying I cannae manage it all...maybe if I was a wee skinny bastard like you I'd struggle, but this is nothing." I chuckle again, as Garrus clears his throat from his position at the head of the table.

"I thought I was running a band of fearsome mercenaries," he says, sounding mirthful. "Would it be so hard for everyone to be professional?"

"I resent the implication that I'm not," Weaver replies indignantly, garnering more laughter from almost everyone seated.

"I don't want anyone forgetting there's missions today," Garrus points out. Damn, man, why you gotta be such a downer… "Melanis, Ian, Mierin and Grundan, you need to do some research. Question dealers on the street for anything about Mirki'it, his facilities, who he employs, and persuade them he's not the right man to be working for."

"Mirki'it's not worth their lives, and they know that," Grundan grunts from his seat. "I can give them a reminder if they need it." Good thing Mierin's going with him, because Grundan's idea of a reminder probably isn't too pleasant…

I catch Melanis' eye as she gives me a quick glare. "And I get to babysit. I normally charge extra for people over eighteen, Garrus."

"Damn," Garrus mutters, chuckling. "I thought I could pass him off as younger."

I raise a hand. "You know I'm sitting right here? In front of you? I might be young, but I can pull my weight."

Melanis looks unconvinced. "Oh, really? I don't want you lagging behind, Ian, even if I'm not expecting much."

"I tend to exceed women's expectations," I chuckle, getting another round of laughs from the table. I half-expect Melanis to flip out on me…but instead, she just presses her teeth together and widens her mandibles, giving me the equivalent of a cocksure grin as she focuses on her food again, muttering something to Montague I don't quite catch. Shaking my head, I reach down and take a bite out of the toast. I hope I don't regret that little comment…

##########

"Keep up, Ian," Melanis says from her position on the rooftop ahead of me, flanging voice distorted over the radio, but not enough to hide her scathing tone. "I thought this kind of thing was supposed to be your strong point."

So much for exceeding expectations.

I speed up as I reach the lip of the roof I'm on, easily jumping the small gap between the two buildings, and roll out of the landing as I impact the floor. The surface feels jagged, even through the weave of my infiltration armour's underlay on my hands and forearms, but not enough to be painful.

"This is my strong point," I say raggedly, seizing the sudden stop to get some much needed air into my lungs. "But I'm not seven feet tall, and I don't know Omega like the back of my hand, so cut me some slack."

The turian lets out a derisive chuckle as I place my hands on my knees and stare at the rough surface beneath me. To my credit, I've been going for a good twenty minutes now, so some kind of break is definitely well deserved. I don't even know why we're taking so long to do this. Melanis said we should stick to the rooftops to get the drop on a dealer, which makes sense, I'm just amazed by how long it's taking.

"The mercenaries aren't going to cut you any slack," she replies firmly, stepping towards the edge of the building and glancing over to the street below.

"Wow. I've not heard that one before," I mutter sarcastically.

"When you start taking it seriously, then I'll stop," she shoots back. I'm tempted to try and say something snippy back, but I hold my tongue. It's not going to get me anywhere with her, and I'd rather focus my efforts on recovering than engaging in an argument I can't hope to win.

"Sooo…" I say, revelling in the awkward silence as she surveys the ground, "you come up here often?"

The turian doesn't even turn around. "Sometimes. It's more secluded up here. Away from the filth on the streets. It lets me think."

"That's why I like it too," I say absent-mindedly, thinking back to my freerunning routes on the Citadel. Good times… "Just you and the buildings. No other pedestrians, freedom to go where you want."

"Yeah," she says, almost sounding relaxed as she does. But only for a second. "I prefer it alone, though. Let's me think without someone complaining incessantly every few seconds."

"Hey, you're the one bitching at _me _about not being able to keep up. Allegedly."

Melanis just sighs, shaking her heads, and beckons me with a talon. "Come and look over here."

I straighten up again, feeling my leg muscles ache in protest, and walk cautiously over to her. "You're not going to push me off as a 'test' or something?"

"No, I'll do that when you're not expecting it," she replies. Her tone of voice makes me suspect she might be serious about that... "Do you see that salarian? A few buildings down from us?"

I take a cautious look down the straight, painfully aware of the lethal drop right next to me, and catch sight of a salarian lurking suspiciously around. Admittedly, people lurking suspiciously is fairly commonplace on Omega… "He's just chilling."

"While you were catching your breath, he gave a bag to a turian who passed by," Melanis says. "If you'd kept up with me, you'd have seen that." I ignore the blatant jibe as she continues explaining. Normally people don't get one over me, yet she's doing it consistently. It's annoying, but kind of fun at the same time. "So I suspect he's doing more than just 'chilling'."

"Yeah, that does sound slightly suspicious. Though maybe he's selling packed lunches or something." Melanis turns his head to look at me, and even with the helmet on I know she's giving me an enormous glare. "That was a joke."

"I noticed," she growls.

"Did you see if it was red sand or not?"

"No," Melanis shrugs. "So, we're going to go down there and ask him. If it was red sand, we might have some follow up questions too. And if he is selling lunches…well, at least we'll get a sandwich." I can see her flexing her talons as she talks. That probably isn't a good sign. What is it with me and finding salarian drug dealers…

"I assume we're not going to be sitting him down with a cup of coffee and asking him to do the decent thing, right?" I ask rhetorically. "Unless you're warming up your talons like that to shake his hand."

The turian chuckles lightly, turning to face me properly. "As much as I'd like to have a nice chat with a drug dealer to pass the time, I'm afraid it's not going to happen. Some intimidation might be in order here."

"Shouldn't be a problem," I say dryly. "I'm on your team and I'm bloody terrified of you."

"That's a good example of what I'm talking about, actually," Melanis replies with a serious tone. "It helps with our training. You respond well to fear, which means I can just threaten you to do stuff."

I raise an eyebrow at that. "So the whole thing is just an act?" Maybe she's not so bad after all-

"No, you genuinely are an annoying prick, and I do it because of that, but it proves my point about people having triggers." I roll my eyes under the helmet. Heaven forbid she says that she likes me… "It varies from person to person. Fear, love, money, power, everyone has something they're susceptible to. Unfortunately, we don't have the time or the inclination to work that out with people, so there's one universal trigger." Oh, I can see where this is going… "If you want information from someone, you have to understand everyone has a threshold for pain. The faster you can get them there, the faster you break them, the better."

I shake my head, cursing under my breath. I knew there'd probably be violent interrogation here…and Garrus knows my feelings about that. Yet he sent me anyway. "That's barbaric," I say flatly.

"Omega is barbaric," she counters.

"Considering we're supposed to be cleaning the place up, does that mean we just join in with its culture like this?"

"When we have to," she nods. "We can't threaten people with laws here, bring them to court, send them to prison. This isn't the Citadel, Ian, whether you want it to be or not." She pauses for a few seconds to let that sink in. "We're the justice here. We're the law. You might not want to do it like this, but nothing else is going to work. Being naïve about it isn't going to help anyone. It's not a choice."

"There's always a choice," I mutter, trying to ignore how much what she's saying makes sense. "Even if it's the only way, I'm not comfortable with it. I can understand why we have to do it…but I don't want a part in it. It's brutal."

Melanis growls lightly, obviously getting frustrated with me. "You have to be brutal, Ian. More brutal than the person who wants to kill you. This place, it'll suck the life out of you and throw you away. You have to look it in its eye, spit, then follow it up with a knife in the gut if you want to survive here. Otherwise, you pay someone to do it on your behalf, and hope they don't stick that knife in you instead."

We stand in silence for a few seconds, the turian breathing slightly heavier than she normally does. I think I touched a nerve there...and her little speech is reminding me of what Aria told me. That Omega changes people. I'm not letting it happen, though. I won't. "I'm not letting fear compromise who I am," I say firmly. "I won't stop you doing it, because we need that information. But I'm not gonna push someone over their pain limit. You might want me to be that person, but I'm not."

Melanis surveys me, body language suggesting another lecture...then she loosens up and sighs. "Fine. Some people are better at interrogation than others, anyway. But I still want you around for this. Doing it in a pair can help."

"What, I play good cop or something?"

"Knock yourself out," she mutters cyncically, shaking her head. "I prefer calling it naïve cop, anyway."

We stand in silence for a few seconds, until a sudden thought hits me. "How long have you been doing this for?"

"Doing what?" Melanis' tone suggests confusion.

"You said you came to Omega just over a year ago," I say slowly. "And joined up with Garrus two months back, when he first formed this team."

She just looks at me, then shrugs. "Is there a point here?"

"You've been doing this way longer than two months," I declare. "Hunting mercs. After a speech like that, the fact you've got all this knowledge of mercenary patterns and Omega, your skills…that doesn't come after two months." No response. I'm not sure whether or not to take that as confirmation. "I'm just saying, there's more to you than meets the eye."

"Then you'll just have to use your imagination," she shoots back flippantly. Oh, I see what you did there…

I mockingly glance her up and down. "I've tried, but I always get this image that you're made of ice under that armour…"

Melanis ignores the comment, except for a derisive chuckle. "We need to get down there before he moves. Let's go." And with that, she's off again, running towards the edge of the rooftop and leaping over to a fire escape. I frown underneath the helmet, taking one last glance around the backdrop of stars against the city, then follow after her.

##############

"I assume you're taking the lead," I whisper, as we skulk up behind the salarian from the shadows. The streets seems empty now, so we're good to actually get this 'questioning' done without being seen. Bizarrely, I have this slight interest to see how Melanis goes about this…though I imagine I'll lose said interest once this whole thing starts. I don't know how brutal she's gonna be, but if she puts even half as much passion into this as she did into her speech before, it's going to be nasty.

"Given what we talked about before, Ian, I think that's probably best," she replies. "Unless you changed your mind." I don't even bother replying. "I didn't think so. Alright, I'll show you how it's done." Without even waiting for me, Melanis takes quick strides out of the shadows towards the salarian, who turns to face her immediately, eyes widening at the sight of a turian in full armour moving towards him rapidly.

"You here for the-" he starts saying, before he gets cut off by a furious right hook from Melanis that sends him sprawling to the ground with a sharp cry of pain. Shit, she's already hitting him? My gut instinct is to help him up, or tell her to stop, but we need this information. Hopefully he'll just give it to us quick.

"You know," the female turian grunts, standing over the salarian struggling to get up, "my friend and I had a bet on what you're selling here." With that, she grabs him by the collar and throws him back against a wall, which the salarian presses against in terror. His eyes are bulging, limbs shaking as he puts his hands out in front of himself as some kind of pitiful defence. "So, we'd appreciate it if you could tell us."

The salarian nods furiously. "I'll show you, I'll show you!" Melanis raises a fist in the air again. "I'LL SHOW YOU!" he screams, causing the turian to drop her hand and take a small step backwards. The salarian's hands thrust into his pockets, then snap out holding something that's definitely not a bag of red sand-

Melanis is on him before he can even raise the barrel of the pistol at her, grabbing the arm he's using to hold it and smashing it against his face. The gun goes off harmlessly to the side, making me jump in shock, but Melanis doesn't even flinch as she wrenches his wrist around, pulls the gun out of his grip, smacks him with it and hurls it over the edge of the raised street we're on. I should've expected that…and it's a good thing Melanis did. I'm not sure what's more amazing, her reaction speed, or the fact the dealer was stupid enough to try pulling a gun.

The salarian sobs, clutching the side of his face where he got pistol-whipped, as Melanis pushes him up against the wall and rifles through his pockets herself, hurling out all manner of bags and drug related paraphernalia. "Told you it wasn't food," she says, glancing over at me, then turning her attention back to the salarian. "What was that little stunt, huh? You think you've got something to prove? That you're an action hero?"

"No," the salarian cries. "I'm not!"

"You sure?" she growls, shoving him again and pushing her helmet up against his face. "You don't want to try fighting your way out of this? Try pulling another trick like that?"

"I'm sure," he says weakly. I can see a dribble of green blood running down the side of his face, dripping onto the floor with a quiet tapping sound every few seconds. I still feel furious at him for trying to shoot Melanis, but at the same time I'm pitying him. Melanis is right, I ain't cut out for this shit… "Just take it. Whatever you want, take it."

Melanis barks out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. "I'm not here for your drugs, I'm here for information."

"I'm just a dealer," he mutters, obviously fighting back pain. "I don't know anything."

"Is that so?" the turian asks. "I haven't even asked questions yet, and you say you don't know." With that, she jabs him hard in the stomach, causing the salarian to let out a sharp yell of pain and double over. "So don't screw me around here! This is Thralog Mirki'it's territory. Do you work for him?"

"Yes!" the dealer says quickly, managing to straighten up again. "That's who I get my stuff off. He sells to half the dealers on this rock!" He spits out some blood to the side, taking care not to get any on Melanis. Good call. "What makes me so special?"

Melanis just laughs again. "We'll be asking them questions too. But I need information on Mirki'it's production lines, how he runs this whole operation."

"I don't know," the salarian squeaks. I glance at Melanis' talons…as she starts taking the gloves off one of her hands. Oh no, that's not good. "I told you, I'm just a dealer!" Right, I'm not gonna just stand to the side anymore…

"Come on, man!" I shout at him, causing both the salarian and Melanis to look at me in surprise. "Is Mirki'it worth this much pain to you?"

No response. I lock eyes with him, willing the dealer to say something, to stop what's coming. No such luck.

I see Melanis swing, talons outstretched, and clench my eyes shut at the scream of pain from the salarian. When I open them, he's on the floor, bleeding from three gouges on the right hand side of his face, crying into the floor. This is fucked up beyond belief…but I can't intervene as Melanis leans down, grabbing him by the throat, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. The salarian tries struggling, but it's totally in vain, since he's weakened from the beating he already received.

"Mirki'it's not worth dying over," she growls. "Tell me everything you know. Now."

The salarian just sobs again. Come on, say something! I'm about to go over and knock Melanis' arms down, when he _finally _opens his mouth. "Fine! We pick up red sand from his production facility. It's an old ship factory, not far from here…Supergiant Manufacturing! Their old place, it's been converted!"

"How well is it guarded?" Melanis snaps, now that we're finally getting somewhere. This is all gonna be over soon, thank Christ…

"He's got guards, mostly mercs," the dealer gasps against Melanis' iron grip. "The workers are all slaves. When people can't afford to keep their habit up, he gets us to send them to him. Uses them as slave labour, pays them in the sand."

I can see her talons tighten around his neck. "You sent them off as slave labour?"

"I didn't have a choice!" he says, barely even able to get the words out from the lack of air. "He would've killed me otherwise!" Melanis suspends him in the air for a few moments longer, the salarian weakly kicking his legs, before she finally drops him down and he crumples to the floor, clutching at his windpipe and gasping in breath. We're all done…and I don't want to come along on a mission like this ever again. I'm making that clear to Garrus. We got useful information, but I feel sick looking at the salarian, and the blood pooling underneath him.

"That's everything I know," the dealer finally manages to say, struggling back to his feet. Melanis looks at him again…then raises her fist back again. Wait, what? No, this is too much! Before she can deliver the punch, I step over and catch her arm. The salarian immediately jumps at the opportunity, scrambling away as fast as he's physically able. Melanis struggles against my grip for a few seconds, before managing to push me away and whirling on me, a real fury in her tone as she addresses me.

"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing!"

"I could ask you the same question!" I shoot back. "I was prepared to let you do that for information, but he told us everything! Hitting him again…it's too much. Do what you want when I'm not around, but not on my watch."

"Right, I have had it up to here with your naivety!" Melanis yells, raising her hand to head height. "You have no idea how to do this kind of interrogation, and you just launch in and interrupt like that!"

I chuckle humourlessly. "Oh, I've know exactly how to do this kind of thing. Just punch them until information spills out, like a fucking piñata. He told us everything! That wasn't an interrogation I interrupted, it was a beat down!"

"No, Ian! In this place, you have to be certain!" I fold my arms indignantly and look at her. "You can tell if someone's lying by giving them one last bit of punishment. If they stick to their story, you go with it, but some people stop lying when they think it's not going to end!"

"Was it going to end?" I ask furiously. "You were enjoying that!"

Melanis shoves me before I can even react, sending me staggering backwards. "Enjoying it? You think I enjoy that? What the fuck do you think I am, Shaw?" I stand in front of her, unsure how to reply. Perhaps that was harsh…but she didn't seem to have any qualms, either.

"Enjoy isn't the right word," I admit. "But you didn't exactly hold back."

"I told you before, holding back isn't an option!" She grabs me by my shoulders, then lowers her voice. "Listen." We both stand in silence for a few seconds, the sudden quiet disconcerting. Just as I'm about to ask her what's going on, I hear something. A scream from the distance, from the sounds of it female, a sound of pure terror…until it's suddenly cut off by the noise of a gunshot, followed by the faint sound of laughter. "What do you think that was?"

I lower my head, staring at the floor, unable to look into her helmet. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," she says. "Whoever those people were, they were terrorising that woman. Maybe they just shot her for enjoyment. Maybe they did something else first. Maybe that's what caused the screaming."

"Stop it," I say quietly.

"A group of them, Ian. Could be mercenaries, could be Mirki'it's men. This is his territory, after all. Taking some fun with that woman, killing her. She might have children, and now she's been left like that. Those people had their way, then tossed her aside like a spent rag."

"Stop it." The words are louder this time.

"Maybe they'll leave the corpse out for the vorcha. Give it to the Blood Pack as a gift. Living the last few moments of her life humiliated and beaten, to be left like scraps for a varren-"

"STOP IT!" I yell, taking quick steps back from her. "I know! I know why we have to do this, what we're fighting to prevent!"

"Do you?" Melanis mutters, stepping back towards me. "Then you'd know we need information to stop them. Information we can't always gain in the 'nicest' way. But we do it anyway, because we can't afford not to. This is the real world, Ian, and I need you let me do my job. Understood?"

I stare at the ground for a few seconds, then slowly nod. "Understood." I can't even bring myself to look at the female turian, as I hear her sigh next to me.

"Back to base. We should report this to Garrus."

"Right," I say. There's no warmth behind it, just a simple statement of fact. Melanis stands, as if she's going to say something…then just shakes her head and takes off towards the fire escape again. I move to follow, but can't help staring at the pool of blood against the wall where the salarian was.

_Omega changes people, _I hear Aria say, imaging her eyes looking at me in her predator like way. _Crushes their innocence, drives some people past what they thought they would ever be able to do. People around here don't give second chances. And the people who do end up dead all too quickly._

"Ian!" Melanis shouts, snapping me out of it. "Let's go! We need to get back to base at some point today!"

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind as I run and jump onto the fire escape, ascending the steps behind Melanis. But no matter how much I want to forget this ever happened, I don't think I'm going to.

And suddenly, the Citadel feels a very far away indeed.

**A/N: So, I'm afraid this is the last chapter before my holiday. Sorry. But, I hope this was a good one for me to go out ****on for a week or so. **

**So, a harsh lesson in life for Ian there. And a reminder of how brutal Omega really is, compared to the Citadel. It ain't sunshine and rainbows anymore, that's for sure. Next time, the message gets relayed back, and this old ship factory gets a closer inspection… (and yes, the name Supergiant Manufacturing is a shoutout to Supergiant Games, the makers of Bastion. If you don't know what Bastion is and you have a 360, find out. Now.)**

**T****hanks for reading the chapter, favouriting and reviewing…and as always, have a nice day.**


	14. Ian vs The Rule

Chapter 14

The Dykeenies: Clean Up Your Eyes 

"How'd it go?" Garrus asks, leaning against the fridge with a bottle of Tupari grasped casually in his right talon as Melanis and I storm into the house. "You get some good information?"

"Fine," both of us lie, at the same time. Normally I'd stop to talk to Garrus, but I'm not in the mood. At all. It's less about what Melanis did to that salarian…more the fact that Garrus sent me into that when he knows my feelings about violent interrogations. It's almost like a betrayal, and seeing him standing there without a care in the bloody world is pissing me off. I just want to go back to my bunk, lie back and try and forget all this stuff happened. The whole thing reminds me of losing it with Saleon, in some twisted way, and I don't need that coming back to haunt me.

The female turian strides off towards her room on the ground floor, from the looks of things still fuming from what happened. We didn't talk at all on the way back, not even a word, and I'm not sure how quickly things are going to improve on that front. I think it's more than just frustration at me being 'naïve', though…somewhere along the line back there, I definitely touched a nerve. Too bad I've got no fucking clue what did it.

I ascend the stairs up to the sleeping quarters two at a time, stealing a quick glance backwards to take in Garrus' bemused expression at the total lack of response. I'm tempted to say something to him, but words escape me as I turn my back and move toward the bunks. He knows exactly what he did, and silence here says more than words ever could.

The room is conspicuously empty as I walk in, but I don't pay it too much attention as I leap up to my bed, look up at the ceiling, close my eyes and take controlled breaths, trying to relax as best I can. I know we need information, that there's not really other way of getting it…I just don't like seeing it first hand. Hell, I don't like that we have to do it at all, but at least if it's out of sight it's out of mind.

God, that's terrible. I feel like a dick for just thinking that. As long as I'm not watching it happen, it's okay…that's such a shit excuse. But it's not like there's a choice. It's got to be done, and I'd rather not watch when the talons come out. As much as I don't like to admit it, Melanis made a good point about necessity outweighing what we'd all rather do. And I guess she's right. Maybe I am too naïve about all this stuff...but that's still not going to change my view that interrogation like that is wrong. I might not like it, but I'll live with it.

I'm still pissed at Garrus, though, for sending me in there. 'How'd it go'…he knew exactly how I'd react. I should've expected a test from Aria, but Garrus? That's not right.

"You know," a flanging voice says from the other side of the room, sounding amused, "when I asked how it went, I was hoping for something a bit more than a one word answer." I roll over to face the door, not returning the small 'smile' Garrus gives me by widening his mandibles. "Though I guess one word is better than none at all." Another silence. "Like now."

"Uh-huh," I mutter, rolling over to face away from him again. There's a thought niggling away in the back of my mind that I'm stropping like a ten year old, but I ignore it. I'm not really that angry at him, after all the time we've spent together and how close we are, but…I feel like he led me on. And considering I trust him more than anyone, that hurts.

"Look, I know that you don't like that type of interrogation," he sighs, walking around to the other side of the bunk so he can look me in the eye. "But I didn't want to keep you in the dark about it. You deserve to know every aspect of the operation here, the good stuff, and the parts I'm…not as proud of."

"You could've just told me," I reply, indignation in my tone. "Rather than send me out there to experience it first hand. That salarian got messed up, Garrus, and I just stood there and watched."

He shakes his head gently. "I know. But I needed you to see it."

"Why?" I shoot back, raising my voice before I even realise I'm doing it. "You want to turn me into Melanis, or something? Is that it?"

"No. I don't want you like that." Garrus' tone is firmer now, as is his expression. "But you have to see the reality around here, Ian. Just telling you about that kind of interrogation doesn't do it justice. This isn't C-Sec anymore, this isn't the Normandy. This is Omega, it's how things work, and you needed to see that so you can handle it." He pauses briefly to let the words sink in. "Can you handle it?"

I nod, reluctantly. "Yeah. I already told Melanis I can deal with the fact we're doing it. Just don't expect me to join in. And you should've been straight up with me about this."

"I know," he replies. "I'm sorry for that. But you needed to see what it's really like here."

I sit up in the bed, feeling my resentment towards him gradually slip away despite how much I'd like to be mad at him. Seeing Melanis do that did hammer home that whatever rules I'm used to have completely changed, and I'm going to have to adapt to that, like it or not. Which I don't. I thought Hull was bad, but this takes the sodding biscuit… "You don't even get good information through torture," I point out. Garrus opens his mouth to cut me off, but I keep going anyway. "I'm aware that it's the only thing we've got, but I'm just saying, people will invent anything to make the pain stop. You know that."

"That's why Grundan and Mierin went out too," he explains. "Whatever details you and Melanis got, we can check them with whatever they find. If they match up, we know we're onto something. Besides, with the reputation we're gaining, they might think we'll come back for them if they lie…" He leaves that hanging in the air, then chuckles. "Or something like that. Look, you don't have to go on any more interrogation missions. Some people are better suited to it than others, and it doesn't seem to be your forte."

"Believe me, I'm more than happy to leave that to Melanis," I sigh. "I don't like you sending me off there without being honest…but I guess it was for the best. It's been a reality check, anyway, so I should probably thank you for-"

"Don't thank me," Garrus says. "I lied to you."

"Just don't make a habit of it" I can't help a small smile forming on my face, and I slap him playfully on the shoulder. "Besides, I lied to you for years about my past for the same reasons you lied to me, and we're still friends, so I guess it's a little hypocritical for me to hold a grudge." The turian doesn't even crack a smile at that. Oops, lead balloon…"Too soon?"

"I don't like being reminded of that," he replies. "But we're being open now, that's the important thing." My mind immediately strays back to Sidonis when he says that, but I clamp down on it. Not until later. Shit, that reminds me of Tali and her father too…I need to try and get in contact with her at some point and explain the whole situation.

Wow. Ever since I got caught up with Garrus' crew, I've barely even thought about her. Weird…

The gradual drone of a shuttle suddenly whispers into the room, growing louder and louder with each passing second as Garrus and I look over at the window. The whisper becomes a mutter, the mutter a drone, then finally a roar as the Kodiak shoots past and begins to descend towards the house. Of course, the rest of the team are still out blowing up spaceports and the like…maybe I'll be able to get onto that again at some point. Especially after the conspicuous lack of infiltrating to do around here.

"That'll be the rest of them getting back," Garrus says, rising to his feet. "I'll go and see how everything went. When Grundan and Mierin get back, we can see how much information we have. Mirki'it doesn't have much time left."

"He pissed you off," I laugh. "Of course he doesn't. Archangel doesn't let criminals escape, right?"

The turian growls lightly as he heads towards the door. "You know I don't like that name."

"But it's so _dramatic," _I say sarcastically, grinning at his clear annoyance. "Makes you sound all heroic. When really you're just a grumpy turian who's a little too obsessed with public service."

"Very funny, Deadpool," he shoots back mockingly. "Makes you sound all badass, when really you're just a jumpy ex-cop who's got too smart a mouth for his own good."

I raise an eyebrow. "When did you turn into Wrex?" Garrus laughs at that, looking to the side shyly as he does, then back at me.

"Ian, I'm sorry about that interrogation. I shouldn't have-"

"Garrus," I interject, holding up a hand. "It's cool. Stop talking about it before I change my mind."

"Okay," he nods, sounding relieved. "Laet said he wanted to see you, by the way."

Hmm? I like seeing Laet…not just for his sparkling personality, but also the chance he's packing some new gadget. I always thought he was an armour specialist, but it would appear the man can do just about anything. "Did he say what it was about?"

"He insisted on keeping it secret, so he's probably come up with something," Garrus replies, rolling his eyes. "There'll be a briefing when Grundan and Mierin get back…do you want to get some drinks with the others after you're done with Laet?"

"I could do with that," I nod. It'd take my mind off things…the last thing I want is to sit alone brooding at the moment. "I'll take a look at what he's got, then see you all in the main room. Any chance you can get me a Tupari?"

The turian shakes his head. "No. Melanis has put everyone on shoot to kill orders if we so much as see you with a bottle. That reminds me to get myself one, though…"

"You're a dick."

"And you get cranky without your juice," he counters. "I'll get you some water for when you're back from Laet."

"Mmm, water," I say sarcastically, brushing past him on my way out of the door. "Delicious. I can hardly wait." Garrus laughs as I leave, and I can't help cracking a smile myself. I might not agree with the interrogation methods…but at least talking to Garrus let me get my head around it. He lied to me, but he did it for the right reasons.

Yeah. I can deal with that.

#########

I shoot Laet a broad grin as I walk into his workshop. "Q, what have you got for me?" The turian cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed in a confused expression.

"Who's Q?"

"It's a James Bond reference," I shrug. "I guess you getting it was going to be a long shot."

"Who's James Bond?"

"Never mind," I sigh. "Garrus told me you had something to show me?"

Laet chuckles, turning around to begin rifling through storage containers. "You could just make a social visit, you know," he says, mock-offended. "Rather than demanding equipment the moment you walk through the door. I'm an artist, not a whore. A little respect does wonders, you know."

I raise an eyebrow at his back. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," he replies, turning back around with some small, oval shaped items. I don't think they're grenades…because if they are, he's being awfully casual with explosives. "I'm not asking much." He adopts a new voice, accent clearly mocking mine, and actually doing a rather good job of it. "Oh, hello Laet, how're you doing?" Back to his normal voice. "I'm doing well, Ian, just slaving away so you're not killed horribly against overwhelming odds, little things like that…"

"Your English accent is amazing, I'll give you that much," I chuckle. "You never cared about this when you had your shop on the Citadel, though."

"That's because you were paying me on the Citadel," he points out.

"Laet, I appreciate you keeping me alive. How's that?" I adopt a teasing tone. "Are you still sad? Do you want a hug?"

He finally laughs at that, shaking his head. "Shut up. I'm tempted not to give you these now, but…ah, go on then. Catch." He lobs the six ovals at me before I can react, so I totally fumble it. One of them even smacks me in the forehead.

"Ow."

"Good effort," Laet says sarcastically, as I lean down and scoop them off up the floor, inspecting them closer. They're not that heavy, very thing, barely even noticeable in my hands, but look like they're designed to clip onto armour. "Can you guess what they are?"

"My psychic powers are a bit off today, so just tell me."

"No need to get snippy," he says. From the sounds of it, he likes winding me up…then again, so does everyone. "They're grav-clips."

"Oh, wow," I say, looking down at them again. "That's really cool, Laet, useful. I've always wanted some-"

"You have no idea what they are, do you?"

"Not a fucking clue."

Laet sighs. "I'll put this in basic terms, just for you." I narrow my eyes at him, but he ignores me. "They can let you attach yourself to walls, ceilings, climb around on them. Useful for hiding, scaling buildings, all the stuff you infiltration types are supposed to do."

"Like Spiderman?" The turian looks confused yet again. "If you didn't get James Bond, I dunno why I expected you to get that. So, do I just clip these onto my armour and start wall-running?" If this turns into some Inception shit where I'm running upside down on roofs and stuff it's gonna be awesome…

"No. Running requires small jumps into the air, so the clips wouldn't be touching and you'd fall off." Oh, yeah…I probably should've thought of that. "You've got a brain, Ian, try using it. Crawling is probably your best plan, but you can theoretically stay attached so long as at least one of the clips is touching. Put them on the soles of your boots, the knees and palms of your suit, and you're sorted."

I shake my head. "That's all well and good…so what's the catch?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask that," he mutters. "They run off your suit's power source. It's mostly negligible, but if you put too much strain on them you might end up overloading your own shields, so keep an eye on how much power they're using. High-gravity environments will drain power quick, as will anyone playing with gravity nearby."

"That's not so bad," I shrug. "Just jump off the wall if the meter gets low."

"You can't really 'just jump off' if you're scaling a ten story building," Laet says, then takes in the worried expression I feel forming on my face. "I shouldn't have said that…look, just be careful with them. Make sure you've got enough power before you try anything stupid. Oh, and watch for biotics."

"Why?"

Laet tightens his mandibles against his face. "Well…if they detect the grav-clips, they can reverse their power exponentially."

I shake my head. "In English, please?"

"All you need to know is that they can turn your feet, knees and hands into paste if they mess with them right," the turian says glumly. "So, uh…watch out for that."

"This invention gets worse by the second, you know that?" I say. "This opens me up to at least two more ways of being horribly killed. That's two too many."

"I'm sure you can judge when to use them," he says idly. "They might be useful in some situations. Besides, you're getting these for free, so think of yourself as a test subject. I can refine them and make changes if needs be."

I take the clips, chuckling lightly to myself. Scaling walls does sound worth the risk, even in the prospect of parts of my body being turned to mush is…unappealing. "I'll test them, then. For science."

"Yep," he nods. "I knew I could count on you. Now, don't destroy them or lose them, because they're expensive. And if you get captured by the mercs, they've got a self-destruct system so they can't fall into the wrong hands. You can sync it with your suit."

I gawp at him. "You want me to attach something that can _blow up_ onto my suit?"

"You're fine with grenades," he points out. "Hypocrite."

"Yeah, but…I mean, if I self-destruct these when I'm captured, it's gonna kill me."

"Then you don't fall into the wrong hands either," Laet shrugs. "It's perfect."

I just stare at the turian's serious expression for a few seconds. "And to think I was enthusiastic about this at first. Can you give me any training with these?"

"I'm briefing Melanis about them soon, she'll run you through it," he replies. Great…because she's exactly the person I want to spend a few hours with after out last chat. Then again, I suppose we have to start working things out somewhere. I'll just bumble around awkwardly during the training with her and she might apologise to me out of pity. Even though she made a lot of points I agree with. Damn.

"You want to get a drink before then?" I ask. "The rest of the crew just got back from…whatever it is they're doing, so if you're interested in coming up for once..."

He nods. "Alright. It's always nice to hear how we've killed the mercs this time, anyway." I raise an eyebrow at that. Laet always seemed quite calm and laid back on the Citadel. Not the kind of person I'd expect to see on Omega, of all places, helping us to damage and kill mercenaries. Garrus said everyone had a personal reason, and I think I know Laet well enough to at least bring it up.

"You're awfully keen on this whole killing mercenaries business," I comment, folding my arms and shifting my weight more onto my right leg. "Doesn't seem like you."

The turian looks at me curiously, clicking his mandibles together lightly. "I thought that was the point of our whole operation here? Garrus asked me to come along, anyway, as a favour to a friend, and I didn't want to turn him down."

"True," I reply, thinking it through. "But you must have owed him a hell of a lot to come all the way to Omega with him, put yourself through this place. Garrus is like my brother, and even I didn't just up and leave with him straight away. Plus, I know you lost the N7 contract, but you'd still be making a nice bit of money for yourself on the Citadel." Laet stares down at the floor uncomfortably, making me stop briefly. Crap, I'm treating this like he's a suspect in C-Sec, and I'm tearing through his story…I should probably back off a bit. "We shouldn't talk about this if you don't want to. Hell, I shouldn't have even brought it up…sorry. I'm just naturally inquisitive about finding the truth. Makes me a good detective. And a shit friend."

Laet chuckles at that, looking back up at me. "It's fine. I should have expected you to work out there's more to this than loyalty to Garrus, anyway." He sighs, then leans back against the wall. "It's not a big story. Revenge, believe it or not."

"I didn't think you were like that," I mutter, then realise how insensitive the words are. The turian seems to agree, though, nodding his head slowly.

"Neither did I. I had a younger brother, Darrael. He'd only been on his compulsory service for two months, and I know he didn't want to stay on any longer than he had to. His ship was out in the Terminus Systems when they needed an emergency refuel. The last report from the ship was that they were touching down on Omega for fuel. After that…it just disappeared, crew and all. Darrael was missing in action, presumed dead."

I just stand there, unsure what to say. That's awful… "Why didn't the turian government do anything?"

"There wasn't any solid proof of what had happened," Laet explains, angry edge to his voice. "The ship had just disappeared, and without evidence they weren't prepared to act in a way that might provoke a war with the Terminus Systems. The report on the incident got buried, but I still had some contacts in the military from my time there. I wasn't much of a soldier, but I knew how to network." He chuckles humourlessly. "I found out where the ship disappeared. At first, I didn't know what to do, then Garrus came and asked for my help on Omega. I saw the opportunity to look into what had happened…and I took it. I didn't expect Darrael to be alive, but I had some hope. And at the very least I'd get to know what had really happened."

"Did you?"

"Yeah," he nods. "It was easy to find out. Eclipse mercs were bragging all over the station about obtaining a turian military ship, the same time my brother disappeared. All its crew were either missing or killed by Eclipse. That was all I needed to hear. The mercs killed my little brother, and I might not be able to fight, but...well, it gives me plenty of reason to help out against them."

Wow. I was expecting a story, but…not that. Especially considering how light-hearted Laet actually is, when he's been keeping this bottled up the whole time. "Laet, I'm so sorry, I had no idea-"

"I know you didn't," he says, then chuckles. "That's why you asked. I just thought you had a right to know, but please, don't dwell on this. What's in the past should stay there, and I don't want to think about it any more than I have to."

"Of course," I nod firmly. "I can understand that."

"Good." We just stand in our positions awkwardly for a few seconds, before he clears his throat. "Well, we should probably go and get those drinks. After dropping that bombshell on you, getting drunk seems like a really good idea right now."

I laugh with him at that, as we both head towards the door. He's using his good humour to distract himself from what he told me, and I can't blame him for that. And if he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, then I'm not going to force him to. "Laet," I say, just as we reach the door. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Trusting me with that. You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "It was good to get it off my chest for a bit. I need to ask you something, though…apart from Garrus, I don't think the rest of the crew know about Darrael, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell them."

"Don't worry about it," I say reassuringly. "I can keep a secret."

"Thanks," he replies, sounding relieved. "Come on, then. Let's see how drunk I can get before Garrus starts the briefing."

Amen to that.

#######

"Perfect timing!" Garrus says, as Laet and I walk into the room. The entire team seems to be assembled around the couches, drinks already in hand as they look up at the two of us entering. "I was just about to page your omni-tools." A quick glance shows Mierin and Grundan in their seats, and I look apologetically over at Laet.

"So much for getting mortal," I chuckle. Everyone in the room looks at me questioningly, even Butler. "Drunk. Getting mortal means getting drunk where I'm from."

"Your medical records indicated you don't drink alcohol," Montague points out, as Laet and I sit down. Butler lobs the turian a bottle of some dextro-brew, then throws some bottled water over to me with a cheeky grin. Bastard… "The idea of you getting drunk seems unlikely, given your history."

"Aye, but Laet here is a _totally _different story," I grin. The more amicable members of the squad laugh at that, giving me a moment to look around the room. Or more specifically at Melanis, sat in her usual spot next to Montague. I catch the female turian's eye for a second, but she breaks off eye contact as soon as she realises I'm looking at her. Guess the interrogation isn't water under the bridge for her just yet.

Garrus holds up a hand for silence, drawing my attention away from Melanis and back to the matter at hand. "There'll be time for getting, uh, 'mortal' later on. After we've dealt with the Mirki'it situation. What did the intelligence gathering find?"

"We worked our way through a few dealers, lowlifes," Mierin explains on his and Grundan's behalf. "They all had their excuses for what they're doing for Mirki'it, but one location kept appearing with every person we asked. The old Supergiant Manufacturing building."

"We heard about that too," I interject. "Apparently Mirki'it repurposed it for red sand production. The place is guarded by the few troops he has, and mercenaries make up the rest of the numbers. The workers are addicts he keeps under control as slaves by providing their fix."

Mierin nods. "That's what we heard, too. If we're looking for his manufacturing base, I think we've found it."

"Good," Sidonis says firmly. "We can blow it sky fucking high." I catch Weaver smirking at that, as Garrus shakes his head. Hmm? I thought he'd be jumping at the chance to destroy this place!

"We can't do that," he says firmly. "No innocent casualties. That place is filled with slaves, and I'm not going to blow it up with them all in there."

"Their drug habit got them into that mess in the first place," Grundan says loudly. "If they get in the way of us stopping this bastard, then it's not our problem." I see Vortash nodding his head lightly in agreement. Aw, hell no!

"And maybe if we free them, they'll have a chance to get themselves out of the mess they got into initially," I point out.

The batarian grunts dismissively. "Sure. I bet half the people in there are your species. Keep looking out for your own, _human._" He spits out the last word like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. I can see Butler tensing across from me, as Garrus clicks his mandibles together loudly.

"This isn't up for discussion," he declares. "We need to get those slaves out before we destroy the place." I hear Grundan curse under his breath, leaning back into his seat, but the rest of the crew seem perfectly happy with letting him sulk. Which is ideal. Garrus says in Mass Effect 2 that their main rule was making sure there's no innocent casualties, and it's good to see most of the squad take that seriously. "Explosives are too risky, and they might execute slaves or put them in the firing line if we try rushing the factory."

"I think I can see where this is going," Melanis says, carefully avoiding my eye contact as she speaks up. "The infiltration team is going to have to go in there and liberate them, aren't we?"

"Try not to sound too enthusiastic," Garrus mutters sardonically. "But yes, that's how this is going to work. Once the slaves are out, the assault team can move in, take care of any remaining resistance, and…" he looks expectantly over at Sidonis.

"Blow it sky fucking high?"

"Exactly." Garrus looks over at me. "Time to see if that diet's paid off for you, Ian. You, Melanis and Mierin need to get those slaves out of there." Mierin looks even more nervous than usual at that news, and frankly I'm right with him on that. Given the slapstick farce that was my attempt at infiltrating a building back in C-Sec, understandably I'm a little cynical about this going exactly to plan. Then again, I wasn't trained for this sort of thing back then.

Melanis nods. "Understood." She's in charge on the infiltration squad, so it's sort of reassuring to see her jump into that role immediately. That said, given her mood with me at the moment, maybe she's not the best person to be taking orders from. If the phrase 'suicide mission only you can complete' comes up during this operation I'm going to be a bit suspicious. "We'll get our gear together and move out in an hour. We can work out our entrance when we get to the factory."

"Good," Garrus says, sounding satisfied as he rises to his feet and the rest of us follow suit. This is eerily reminiscent of briefings back on the Normandy…he really does emulate Shepard in so many ways now he's in charge. "I want everyone ready in an hour. Dismissed."

I stride off towards the bunks and my lockers, idly cracking my knuckles together as I go. Even if violent interrogation isn't what I signed up for, liberating slaves sure as hell is.

Time to go and be big damn heroes.

**A/N:**** I'm back! It was a really good holiday, but man, the amount of stuff I've had bothering me irl has been unreal recently (and doesn't look like it's set to go any time soon, either). Ironically, I think I'm going to have more free time when I'm back at school…so the update rate might slow right down to once a week. Hopefully not, but I'd rather give advance warning in case it does.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed that long overdue update! Bit of Laet backstory goodness there (could be relevant later, hmm?) Next up is a proper infiltration mission, as the Mirki'it plot arch begins to draw to a close (though we've still got a few chapters of it left, don't panic.) **

**Oh, and if you've got a spare moment, go and check out 'Mass Effect 2 – Friends in a Time of Dying' on YouTube by 211Shinobu. Seriously good tune and video for you Garrus/Shepard fans :-) **

**Bye!**


	15. Ian vs The Vent

Chapter 15

Travis: Eyes Wide Open

**A/N: If you find yourself getting mixed up with who's who on the squad, I've put a character list up on my profile to help you out if you need it.**

"_Damn,_ that's big," I gasp, as Melanis, Mierin and I hoist ourselves onto the rooftop adjacent to the old Supergiant Manufacturing building. Now Mirki'it's red sand production line. Not the most glamorous of takeovers.

"It's a factory," Melanis mutters next to me, checking her silenced pistol and prompting the rest of us to do the same. "What did you expect?"

I just shrug, satisfied my weapon is in order, and the grav clips are firmly attached. Vortash brought us over and dropped us as near to the factory as possible, leaving a simple ascent to the closest rooftop. From here, I've been informed we're going to use a shoot a zipwire onto the wall, then get up to the roof using the grav-clips. We should only have two floors to ascend…but it's the ten or so below me that I'm more concerned about. Never mind what's inside. And I thought the first Mako drop was nerve wracking.

Melanis' reply was a little brusque there, but I ignore it. Can't say it comes as an enormous surprise, anyway, given her obvious dislike of me at the moment, plus there's the fact that's almost exactly what I'd have said if someone else made the same comment. "I'm not really sure what I was expecting," I admit. "But there's going to be a lot of slaves in there. And guards." Both the turian and the salarian stare at me behind helmets. Shit, that sounded like I was complaining… "I can handle it," I say, backtracking quickly. "I'm just saying. There's going to be a lot of opposition."

"Then we make sure they don't see us coming," Melanis replies confidently. "Three people with silenced weaponry can be as deadly as a whole unit of people in the right situation."

"Then I hope this is the right situation," Mierin says quietly. The salarian seems as nervous as ever, at least in his mannerisms, but the pistol he's holding is steady in his hands as his looks around the area. He might be worried, but I don't think it'll get to him. He doesn't seem the type. Besides, a bit of fear helps keep you on your toes. Or it makes you panic and die horribly. I guess it's a fine line.

There's a small silence at his words, then I let out a low whistle. "That's probably not the best thing to leave hanging before a mission, Mierin." The salarian chuckles at that, and I swear even Melanis barks out a small laugh, though I could just be imagining it. "We'll be fine. Shipping costs have taken a sudden rise recently, so I imagine Mirki'it might have had to lower his security costs-"

"_Check. Are you all reading me?" _That's Garrus, alright…Vortash dropped him and Erash into a position further away, but it gives them a good line of sight into the few windows surrounding the building. They might end up not being needed, but having even a little bit of sniper support is reassuring, if nothing else. Once we've secured the slaves and the building, the assault team are going to be dropped off by Vortash, clear the building and plant the charges to destroy this place. That's the plan, anyway.

"Loud and clear," Melanis replies, raising a talon to the ear under her helmet. "You're in position?"

"_Affirmative," _comes the quick response. Garrus always sounds so serious in the situations, not that I'm holding it against him. We've got our personalities for out of operations, and in them. _"We can see a few guards moving around inside, and the production line's still running."_

"Good," the female turian says. "The noise should help cover us. We'll send the slaves straight out of the front door, see if we can cause some chaos. How heavy does resistance look?"

There's a small pause, then Erash comes onto the radio. _"Lightweight. I'm observing significantly more slaves than guards."_

"You'd think they'd just fight their way out if they've got numbers like that," I say, thinking out loud. "Can we get a thermal scan to check what we're up against?"

"No point," Mierin says from next to me. "We won't be able to tell friend from foe on a scan like that." Damn, he's right…we're going to have to take this one how it comes, then.

Melanis seems to share that sentiment. "We've done everything we can from out here. We're moving in now, so stand-by to give us support."

"_Roger," _Garrus replies curtly. _"And watch out for cameras. If this place gets surrounded by mercs, the slaves are just going to get cut down if we let them make a run for it."_

"Will do," Melanis says. The comm. link cuts off, as she turns to Mierin. "Alright, set up the zip line." The salarian nods, pulling what resembles a futuristic crossbow that he carefully lines up with the factory wall facing us. As he does that, the female turian slowly walks back to stand next to me. Oh God, this probably can't be anything good…

"What's up?" My voice is a little too emotionless, robotic. It's not like me, but I'm still annoyed at her.

"Ian," she says, then lets out a sigh. "I know after the last mission there might be some…animosity between us, but we need to be professionals for this. We can talk about what happened later, but right now I need you to follow my orders. And I need you to trust me."

I turn my head to look at her. I don't approve of what she did, but I don't think Mel's evil. She could've just killed that dealer when he lied and moved onto another one, but she didn't, and the information did turn out good. Besides, if she's prepared to talk about it later, I can do this for her. Despite the way she handled things…I do want us to go back to being rivals rather than enemies. "Okay. I can do that."

"Good," she says, sounding relieved, as Mierin raises a hand awkwardly, pointing to the wall with a zipline now going down to it, as he finishes attaching the end on our side to the roof. I've been assured there's no way it can fall, suction caps and weights keeping it steady over here, but it looks horribly flimsy.

Fuck, now that's attached, the drop and distance to the factory looks even bigger…if this was a few feet up, I'd be fine, so if I don't look down what's the difference?

…

Nope, I can't even convince myself with that. Man, I really overthink these things.

"I suppose I should show you how it's done," Melanis mutters, reaching down to a carabiner attached to her armour. I attached one to my infiltration suit before we left, so at least I'm set there. Won't have to slide down using my gun Uncharted 2 style. "Let me attach myself to the wall with the grav-clips, move away, then the next person follow after." She doesn't even wait for a response as she clips herself in, takes two quick steps and launches herself off the roof, zipping sound gradually fading away as she manages a controlled landing into the building.

There's a few seconds where my heart's in my mouth as she just hangs there…then clearly manages to get a grip, cautiously unhooking the carabiner with the hand not attached to the wall before she crawls up and to the side, looking back at us. I glance over at Mierin.

"After you, mate."

The salarian sighs, following Melanis' lead. He manages a controlled landing into the wall, and attaches himself to it almost straight away. I was hoping for some time to get mentally prepared, but it takes Mierin less than a minute to get into position. Dammit!

I clip myself on, looking at my squad mates, then backwards. Then down. Then quickly back up again as I feel my head lurch. Screw it, no guts, no glory.

I jump out, beginning the slide quickly as I close the gap. Too quickly. The wall is rushing up all too suddenly, and I can't get my legs up in time to soften the-

I slam into it with a thud, dangling precariously as the wind is knocked out of my lungs, and I scrabble for purchase in panic for a few seconds before I recover. I can hear Mierin laughing quietly over the radio as I calm down, and place one hand, my knees and my feet on the wall, quickly checking my omni-tool's readout as I feel myself pulled onto the surface. Everything's in order…

I hold my breath, reaching up carefully with my free hand, unhooking myself from the line, then pressing it back down and pressing myself against the wall as it disconnects. I'm literally stuck to a wall…oh my God, this is fucking terrifying. Melanis and I practiced briefly before we left, but it had nothing on this. Don't freak out, don't freak out…just two floors to climb.

Melanis sets off first, as I slowly reach up one hand, then move my knees and feet on the opposite side. It's a bit of a strain pulling myself up, but I do it, inching my way towards the top step by step. The comic and movie industry is so irresponsible for making this shit look _fun, _of all things…I keep myself facing the wall as I climb, not daring to look down or up until I reach the roof.

############

I hoist myself onto the firm surface frantically, rolling onto my back and breathing out a huge sigh of relief, laughing through fear and adrenaline. I'm never going to get used to that, ever. Climbing up walls like that is unnatural…and not in a good way.

"Get up, Ian," Melanis says, as I feel her foot lightly kick my shoulder. I push myself up on one arm, then see the female turian reach a talon down to help me up. I grab it, smiling under the helmet as she hoists me up, arguably a little _too _hard, but I guess it's the gesture that counts. I know I'm beginning to calm down about the interrogation, so maybe she is too…

The rooftop is fairly barren, usual asphalt style surface with a landing pad for shuttles or vehicles, presumably for moving stock or getting in visitors and guards. Fortunately, this means there has to be an access door, which stands by itself on the far left of the rooftop. The panel is red, but I doubt it's anything I can't handle…

"I'll get this," I say, opening up my omni-tool as I walk over the door. "I should probably make up for embarrassing myself on the zipline, anyway."

"I thought you'd have known to put out your legs," Melanis mutters, sounding amused as I check the door. Aye, nothing tricky…hack module should take care of that in a few seconds.

"Maybe I would've known that if you'd taught me."

"I assumed common sense covered that much."

I laugh, as the module breaks through the firewall. "Well, at least we're talking again, even if it is just you taking the piss out of me."

"We can hardly complete a mission without communication," she shrugs. "Strictly professional. We can talk about serious issues after we're done."

"Professional," I say. "Sure. You've just missed my incredible banter-" The door panel suddenly turns green and slides open without warning, cutting off conversation as all of us draw our pistols and aim straight ahead. Nothing, except for an empty stairwell. Here goes.

Melanis takes a quick peek for cameras, then takes point, indicating for the two of us to follow her. I can faintly hear my own breath against my helmet as I do so, as we reach the door at the bottom and the female turian reaches for something. The panel is green, but she places a small spherical object underneath the tiny gap at the bottom of it and checks her omni-tool display. Ah, snake cam…the old tech is still sometimes the best. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I suppose.

"Shit," she mutters. "Two guards in that room."

Eh? "Doing what?"

"Talking. Maybe they're taking a break from persecuting addicts and the smell of red sand."

She sounds pissed off about them. Then again, I'm sharing the sentiment there. Those people are literally slave driving bastards, and we're stopping this. "Is there alarms?" Mierin asks.

"One in the left hand corner, but they're leaning on the wall to the right," Melanis replies. "One of the guards has his back turned, about two metres away from the door. Ian, you move in and take him down, Mierin and I will shoot the other one before he can reach the alarm. They're not wearing helmets." I nod, placing the pistol in my left hand as I reach over my shoulder and draw my knife. Take them down quickly and cleanly.

Her talon hovers over the switch…then Melanis mutters 'go' and stabs down on it. I burst through straight away, wrapping an arm around bottom of his neck, then I drive the knife into his throat as Mierin scores a perfect headshot on his bewildered friend, blood splattering onto the wall behind him to the soft cough of the silenced pistol. The guy I'm holding lets out a small gurgle and goes limp, as I push to the floor and quickly wipe the knife on my armoured hands, already bloody from the stabbing. Five seconds, every target down. Quick and clean.

"Not bad," Melanis says approvingly, as I holster the blade and hold the handgun in both hands, taking a glance around the room. It looks fairly non-descript, a cheap table and chairs in the centre, small window overlooking the production line, bare walls…except for one poster stuck up. Which looks suspiciously like-

"I've got a map here," Mierin announces. "Looks like the centre of the place is reserved for the production lines…on the edges we've got staff rooms, storage areas, slave quarters."

"That makes things easier," I smile, standing next to the salarian and glancing around at it. "The slave quarters are on the bottom floor, but we should be able to get there without too much bother."

Melanis shakes her head. "Some of the slaves are still working. We should be able to free the ones that are off their shift, but ones in the factory might be a bit more difficult." Damn, good point. A look out the room's small window shows production in full swing, and also seems to be more heavily guarded. The slaves seem to be working in groups of four or five, with one guard posted per group…and the workers look pretty haggard from up here. I doubt they'll be fighting back.

"There's a control room marked on here," Mierin says. "If we take that, cameras aren't going to be a problem. Plus one of us can guide the other two by using feeds throughout the building. We're going to need to kill the guards on the production lines without them raising the alarm, so that would help." He looks over at Melanis nervously. "Right?"

"Definitely." The turian looks at the map again, then up at the ceiling to think. "Okay. We're on the top floor now, so we need go down five floors to the control room. The slave quarters and production line access are at the very bottom…so we'll take care of the guards down there, then set everyone loose."

"Sounds like a plan," I nod. Having someone on overwatch makes this whole thing so much easier, provided we can take that control room without much difficulty. We've already taken two guards, though, so it doesn't look like they're too prepared. So far, this is all going rather good. What could really go wron-

Fuck, no. Don't think that. Don't bloody jinx it.

"We should do this as quickly as possible," Melanis says. "We'll risk taking the stairs down, they're not going to be heavily guarded." With that, she strides over to the next door and opens it, peeking out cautiously, then sets off at a light jog down the corridor before Mierin or I can say anything. She certainly doesn't hang about…

I fall into step behind her, sweeping around with my pistol as we move. A bunch of seemingly empty rooms are on either side of us, presumably offices from when Supergiant owned the place. Mirki'it probably has other people to do the administration for him…

It's only a short run to the stairwell, which is mercifully empty as we move into it and silently advance, noise of the machinery muffled by the walls. I can feel a bead of sweat dripping on my forehead as the three of us move. All the guards must be on lower floors, because this seems too quiet.

"I was expecting more resistance," I mutter through the comm. channel, making no noise externally.

"You can expect it, alright,"Melanis replies. "We're only going around the edges of this place. The guards are going to be watching the slaves and the rooms they actually use, not abandoned offices."

I guess she's right there. Walking around with nothing shooting at me is actually making me more nervous then a proper fight, though, so I'd rather there was some sign of action. "So, you're saying the shit's going to hit the fan once we reach the fifth floor?"

"I might have been a bit more eloquent about it, but yes."

A large number five painted on the wall goes by as we round the final set of stairs, and Melanis prepares the snake cam for the door ahead. I steal a look over her shoulder as she sets it up…and curses quietly. "Looks like they've actually bothered to protect this part. There's one batarian guard patrolling in front of us, and another facing down the corridor that leads to the control room. One guard minimum. Plus there's a camera."

"Didn't see that coming…" I mutter. Melanis growls lightly. "What? I told you it's been too quiet!"

"Does the guard on the control room corridor have a line of sight to the one in front of us?" Mierin asks.

"I don't think so," the turian replies. "Have you got a plan?"

Mierin wrings his hands uncertainly, then nods. "I think so. I've got the start of one, anyway. We wait for him to go past again, open the door and drag him in here, then take things from there with one guard down."

"Well, it's that or hang about here all night," I shrug. "It's worth a shot. Who's doing the grabbing?"

"I need to watch the camera, and you've got more muscle than Mierin," Melanis says. "Grab him and pull him back here. Think you can manage that?" I open my mouth, but she doesn't even wait for a reply. "Good. Here he comes."

I tense my feet against the floor, getting ready to lunge as I wait. It takes a few seconds, then Melanis opens the door. I reach out, grabbing the startled batarian by the shoulders, then pull him into the stairwell as Melanis closes the door again. He tries a clumsy hook, which I duck under, then headbutt him in the jaw. His head snaps back, letting me grasp it with two hands and slam his head against the wall. The batarian goes limp on contact, blood pouring from his nose and an eye as he crumples down.

"Good luck finding your teeth," I mutter. Melanis sighs loudly next to me, presumably at the one-liner. "Trust me, Mel, I've got plenty more where that came from."

"I can hardly wait," she replies sarcastically. "Well, as satisfying as that was, we're not much closer to that control room." If I remember the map, it's just down the corridor from here…but a camera covers the first part of the approach, and a guard is standing in its blind spot, completely oblivious of what happened to his friend. A plan's forming here…

"Tactical cloaking," I say. "It'll let us get past the camera. Then we can stealth kill the guard, and move on the control room."

Melanis takes a second to weigh up the situation, then nods. "Good thinking. These cloaks only last a few seconds, though, so we'll need to move quick."

"No, really?"

"Shut up," she mutters. "I'll go first and deal with the guard." I ready my omni-tool, as Mierin does the same and Melanis retracts the snake cam. "Three, two, one…go." I feel a kick of adrenaline as I see myself turn transparent, but the feeling of amazement goes away quickly as I move out, only able to see the position of the other two through an outline my helmet projects of their armour against the glass fronted side of the building.

The turian outline dashes stealthily towards the oblivious guard, placing both talons on the sides of his head and quickly twists, a sharp snapping sound filling the corridor as he drops. Unfortunately, I can see Mierin beginning to appear again…as the two guards standing by the control room look in amazement at the salarian suddenly appearing in front of them. Damn it, we couldn't see them from the snake cam!

Both guards go for their guns before the alarm right next to them, giving us a brief time window. Accuracy is temporarily forgotten as I fire off two wild rounds in panic, but Melanis manages to coolly execute one of them. Unfortunately, the one remaining has finally come to his senses, and is reaching for the alarm button just inches away. No! I tense my finger on the trigger…

And he falls lifelessly, blood exploding outwards from the side of his skull, hand still reaching out for the alarm. I can hear my heart beating furiously as we sweep the area with guns held out in front, expecting to see more guards materialise at any moment. Thankfully, they don't.

"That was _way _too fucking close," I breathe. "Nice shot, whoever that was."

"Wasn't me," Melanis says, still sounding alarmed by what just happened.

"The shot came from the side," Mierin points out. "Look at that window." I follow his pointing finger…to a perfect bullet shaped hole against the glass. No way…

"_Thank you for the compliment," _I hear Erash say, sounding amused. _"I suppose I'm currently winning the bet, then?"_

I can't think of a particularly witty reply, partially out of amazement. The building he's on is at least a hundred meters away, and he got a headshot…it's fluke. It has to be. Melanis and Mierin are stacking up next to the control room door as I stare at the window, and a light cough from the turian draws my attention back to them. Shit, we're still on a mission…I can admire Erash's shot later. Whilst handing over five hundred credits, from the looks of things. Damn.

"Three guards," Melanis says. "We could probably take them by bursting in…"

"Bit risky," I say, glancing around for an alternate way in, eyes settling on a ventilation shaft connecting to the room. Ah-hah! Looks big enough to fit me, and it'll give us the drop on them. Literally. "I could go through that vent, catch them by surprise."

Melanis doesn't reply for a few seconds, then nods. "Go for it. We'll wait until you're in position." Wow, I'm actually having some good ideas on this mission! I carefully reach up, delivering a punch to the vent cover that's muffled by the noise from the factory, and looses it enough to let me pull it off. Alright…I jump up, planting my hands on the lip of the vents interior.

The whole portion I'm hanging onto comes crashing down with an almighty noise, one that I'm absolutely certain isn't going to be covered up by machinery sounds. I frantically look up for Melanis and Mierin…who've both disappeared, as the door begins to slide open. Fuck!

"This place is falling apart," the turian who walks out complains, turning away from his friends inside as he surveys the broken vent…and me. "What the fu-"

Melanis suddenly materialises behind him, cutting the turian off as she holds him as a human shield, pointing her pistol into the room and opening fire as Mierin becomes visible and does the same. Each fires two or three shots, then turn to look at me as they lower the guns.

"Room's clear," Mierin says, but he's definitely holding back a laugh there…

"Oh, good," I mutter, climbing to my feet. "_So _glad I could help you there." I turn my gaze to Melanis. "You knew that was going to happen!"

"I knew they'd come out to investigate," she shrugs. "They played right into our hands. Besides, it's a good way of teaching you that vents won't support your weight. This is real life, not the vids." Oh…

"So much for professionalism," I say, though I guess I can see the funny side. Plus it was a good tactic. And if it helps Melanis lighten up a bit, I can take it. We all walk into the control room, as Mierin takes a seat in front of the bank of screens and control. "At least this looks promising."

"This is perfect," the salarian says excitably. "There's cameras all over the production area…I'll be able to guide you from up here. I can control most of the systems." Great, now we can actually start liberating slaves! About damn time.

"There's a guard roster up here too," Melanis says. "Apparently there's twenty five guards in this place, and we've taken care of…nine of them. You know, I think Ian was right about Mirki'it making cutbacks. How many can you see on the factory floor?"

"Twelve," Mierin says instantly. Wow, salarians process information quick, don't they? "The other four are in the slave quarters. You're going to need to get rid of them all if you want those slaves free, though. And make sure none of them notice each other getting killed off."

Huh, that's a conundrum…we can turn invisible, sure, but I doubt we can kill twelve people in the amount of time a tactical cloak lasts. Grenades? Nope, too risky with all the slaves around, and we can't just take guards down when they're not looking because the bodies will get discovered too quickly-

"You said you could control most of the factory systems up here," Melanis slowly murmurs to Mierin. "Does that include the lights on the factory floor?"

"If you need me to," the salarian shrugs.

"Will the people in the slave quarters be able to see if the lights go off in the main factory?"

Mierin nods. "They're cut off from each other, so no, I don't think so. Why, do you have a plan?"

"I might do." There's a confident edge to her tone as she walks to the door, beckoning me to follow. "Come on, Ian. I need you to help with this."

"Help you with what?"

#########

"That's a little crazy."

"No, it's not. You're just jealous because you didn't think of it first."

I chuckle from our position, hidden behind one of the vats used in the manufacturing process. The factory is incredibly hot from all the machinery, and hellishly noisy as conveyer belts whir, steam from heating the product hisses, and mercenaries shout at the helpless slaves packing the red sand and operating the equipment. The place itself is pretty wide, with a high roof flanked by the office spaces we were previously in, but the workers are bunched into the middle. Along with their guards.

"Keep dreaming. I just think any plan that needs us to shoot up to eight people in five seconds could be a bit far-fetched."

"That's because you're not as skilled as me," she mutters, then continues before I can rebuke. "We'll stealth kill as many as we can, then kill the lights and take care of the rest. Do you have any better ideas?"

"No," I admit.

"That's what I thought," she mutters. Was that a little jibe about the interrogation? Damn it, just as I was beginning to forget… "I'll go left, you go right. Stay low, move quickly, and make sure the slaves don't go crazy when you work. Okay?"

"Got it," I nod, but can't help feeling a bit pissed off at the turian as she heads off to the side. I'm prepared to forgive and forget, but maybe she isn't just yet.

It's not important now, though. I round the vat, placing my pistol sights over the head of a human guard leaning threateningly over a slave. One quick squeeze, and she goes down without a sound, the slaves looking at the corpse in terror, then over at me. I raise a finger to my lips, pointing off at another guard a few metres away. Even for addicts, the message is simple, and thankfully they all keep quiet as I edge forward.

I manage to get right up behind the next guy, our positioned hidden by a raised conveyer belt. A simple shot to the back of the knee makes him buckle, and I plug the guard in the neck before he can cry out. The guards still haven't reacted…but some slaves on the other side of the room certainly have, pointing at the corpse and talking excitedly. I frantically mime at them to be quiet, but by now their guards attention is turned to what they're looking at…and onto me.

Fuck.

"Kill the lights!" I shout into the radio at Mierin, raising the pistol. The merc's only ten or so metres away, so it's an easy headshot. I vault over the conveyer belt…just as the lights suddenly shut off all together, to swearing from mercenaries as I activate night vision. Two fumble around blindly to my right hand side, easy kills. They don't even know what hit them.

There's the sound of more bodies hitting the floor from Melanis' side, as I catch a glimpse of an omni-tool being turned on. It's an easy matter to find the owner, and end any hopes she had of turning on a flashlight. That's five on my count…as the sound of shouting and silenced gunfire is replaced by the simple whirr of machinery.

"Mel! How many have you got?"

"Seven! You?"

"Five! We're all clear down here, Mierin." The lights slowly come back on, one at a time, as the slaves stare at us with what looks like horror as they see the corpses littering the area. We're going to have a panic if we don't say something…

"We're here to help you," Melanis says quickly, moving to calm the situation. "Whatever mistakes you made to get into this position, we're letting you have a chance to repair them. Get out of here, get off the drugs, and get off this station. Mirki'it's going down."

I'm expecting some massive surge of movement, but the fourty odd slaves in the area just slowly climb to their feet, some frowning, others literally in tears. Huh? "Hey, what's wrong? We're getting you out of here!"

"We can't leave." I whirl around, to see a young asari looking at me with dead eyes, fingers toying at the collar around her neck. What the fuck is she talking about?

"Yes, you can! Just run out the front door, you'll be safe!" Melanis shouts, beginning to sound pissed off. I was expecting the slaves to be thanking us, not resistance!

"Has Mirki'it brainwashed you or something?" I ask, looking over at Melanis. "Oh God, what if he actually has-"

"You don't understand," the asari says, letting out a small sob as she touches the band around her neck again. "This is a bomb collar. If we leave the building…it explodes."

My eyes widen underneath the helmet, as I cautiously step closer to the gently crying asari and inspect it. I can see the wiring…and small charges placed on the inside. We got shown these at C-Sec, but I've never seen one in use before. And a look around the room shows every single slave with an identical black band around their neck.

We're in a building with forty walking timebombs, even more in the slave quarters and four hostile guards. With no idea of how long we've got until mercenaries on the outside start getting suspicious. I slowly reach a hand up to my ear, activating the radio and turning off the external speakers.

"Garrus…

"_Are you in position?" _I don't reply, unsure of what to say. _"Is everything okay?"_

"No." I sigh deeply. "Things just got a whole lot more complicated."

**A/N: So, you thought it'd just be a simple one chapter mission, huh? Well, think again! ****It just got more complex than any of the squad could have anticipated…**

**Ian and Melanis haven't made up just yet, btw. They might be talking again, but that's still to come. Both of them know there's tension under the surface. **

**Unfortunately, I'm going on a brief break over the weekend to go holiday with my family. Again. I know. So, it might be a week or so until the next update, but hopefully I'll be able to work a bit quicker than that.**

**Oh, my GCSE results came through…8 A*s and 3 A grades :-). Hope everyone else who was waiting on results gets what they were after.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing (almost 500?) and I'll see you next chapter!**


	16. Ian vs The Collars

Chapter 16

Avenged Sevenfold: Not Ready to Die

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. I'll probably be apologising for that at the end of chapter anyway, but, uh…yeah, sorry.**

"_Bomb collar?" _Garrus asks incredulously, alarm in his voice clear for all of us to hear. _"Shit, we should have thought of that…otherwise these slaves would have overpowered the guards and ran a long time ago."_

"My thoughts exactly," I reply, looking over at the distraught asari as I turn off the external speakers. This probably isn't the best conversation for any of them to hear…and compared to others, she's holding up rather well. Melanis is trying to calm them down, with varying degrees of success, but rather her than me. I suck with crying people. "From the looks of it, every slave's been fitted with one. And it's not some hoax where they've been lied to so they don't run. This is the real deal."

"_You're absolutely sure?"_

"Positive," I say grimly. "I recognise it from that training day we had at C-Sec on explosives."

"_Glad one of us was paying attention," _the turian mutters. I chuckle, despite myself. It's a pretty stressful situation, which is probably why I'm looking for some kind of humour. That's how I deal with this stuff. _"Do you know how to defuse them?"_

I frown, thinking back to the training thing. We got taught how to identify them, that's for sure, but defusing…

_Pallin turned to look at Garrus and I, as the screen behind him projected an image of __a bomb collar. "The point of this is to teach you how to recognise them. No matter how confident you are, when you see one of these, call it in for an explosives expert to defuse. And no, Vakarian, Shaw, blowing up a spaceport does __**not **__make you explosives experts…"_

"Not a damn clue," I admit. "And I don't think guessing which wire to cut is the best policy, do you?"

I hear Garrus curse quietly, then his voice comes back through at full volume. _"No, it's not. Damn it, we should've seen this coming…how many slaves are there?"_

"We've got about forty or fifty in the factory, at a guess," I say, taking a quick look around. "There's four or so slaves to each guard, and there were twelve down here, so that means fifty is more likely. Not to mention, this is only one shift. There's got to be at least fifty more in the slave quarters." My eyes suddenly widen underneath the helmet… "Shit, the slave quarters." In all the adrenaline of taking down the guards and the bomb collar revelation, I forgot we're not in the clear yet. "There's four more guards left in the building, guarding the rest of the slaves. We didn't want the alarm raised before, but now…we can't risk it."

"_Agreed," _Garrus says firmly. _"Those guards need to go right now. We don't know how long we've got until there's a change in shift, and if they come into the factory and see what you've done-"_

I check my pistol in the holster, not drawing it to avoid freaking people out even more. Last thing we need is a riot. Especially one where everyone's wearing explosives. "I know. Melanis can stay here to keep them calm, I'll take care of the last few guards. Then what?"

"_I'll get in contact with the assault team and Weaver. We'll get ready to move in and secure the warehouse, but he might be able to talk you through defusing the collars__ before we enter."_

"Got it," I reply, pausing for a second, before addressing Garrus again. "I hate to bring this up…have we got a contingency? I don't want to think about it, but just in case something happens with the collars." There's an excruciatingly long silence. When you consider the biotic bomb on the Citadel was what made Garrus leave, something like this must be scaring him even more than it's scaring me…which is saying something. This feels awfully like the past is coming back to haunt us, and we might not be able to do anything except watch…

There's a light crackling as Garrus returns to the line. "Free those slaves, I'll work on finding out how to defuse the collars. Over and out." The line goes dead. I shake my head, walking over to Melanis, who's consoling a sobbing human. Around them, some slaves are wailing with tears, others sitting there quietly staring at the floor, a few wide-eyed and frantic, scratching at their arms and moving around restlessly. They're probably the worst addicts…

"Mel," I say quietly through our helmet comms, tapping her on the shoulder. The turian quickly excuses herself, offering a consoling talon to the human, then she stands to look at me. "I'm going to get the last of those slaves out. It's too risky to have four guards still floating around here."

"Okay," she nods, her external speakers turned off as she talks. "I'll come with you, just let me finish with these-"

"No. If you leave, these guys might start a riot, and we'd all be screwed. Just…" I sigh. "Just keep them under control. I'll bring the rest of the slaves here and we'll…" I stop in the middle of the sentence, realising I don't know what happens after that. "I'll bring them in here and we'll take it from there."

"Alright." Melanis begins to turn back around, then pauses. "Are you okay?" There's real concern in her voice as she looks at me again. "You seem…off."

"I talked to Garrus a few seconds ago," I mutter. "This whole bomb thing just hits a bit close to home for us. I'll be alright, Melanis." We both just look at each for a few seconds, and the situation makes our argument from the interrogation seem totally insignificant. We need to save these people's lives, and she's my ally. "Thanks for asking. Keep everyone calm, I won't be long."

The turian nods, turning back to the slaves as I set off at a quick jog towards the slave quarter location.

It only takes a minute or so to cross the factory floor, dodging in between groups of slaves chattering fearfully, or just holding each other for comfort, as I reach the corridor leading to their accommodation and I plant my back against the door into the slave quarters, sighing heavily. If there's as many slaves in here as there are in the factory, we're going to have a hundred people with bomb collars on our hands. In a mission that should've just been routine. I guess I probably should have realised by now that nothing ever goes 'routine'.

"Mierin," I mutter, remembering the salarian still in the control room. "You got any advice for me? I'd rather not charge into four people with assault rifles."

"_Shotguns," _he quickly corrects me. "_They're carrying shotguns."_

"Oh, brilliant. That makes it _so _much better."

"_The slaves are in cells, in the room behind the guards," _he explains. _"The guards are in a break room in front of it. They've got a kitchen, a table, chairs…"_

I roll my eyes. "I can admire the decoration when the guards are gone. I'm a little more interested in how to avoid being shotgunned right now."

"_There's a raised counter directly in front of you when you go through the door, so take cover behind there. Two of the guards are roaming around, the other two are sitting at a table with this black and white board, moving stuff around…"_

"They're playing chess?" And here I was thinking mercenaries were all idiots…

"_If you say so," _Mierin replies, obviously not knowing what the hell 'chess' is. _"As soon as their backs are turned, I'll give you the go. Get behind the counter, and we can move from there." _I hover a hand over the door control, ready to open it. Normally I wouldn't fancy taking on four people, especially when they're armed with shotguns…but I don't plan on this being a fair fight.

"_Go!" _Mierin says urgently, as I stab down on the door control, sliding it open just enough for me to squeeze through, then closing it straight away as I take two quick steps and slide the rest of the distance behind cover. I can still hear the two guys playing chess, and the patrolling guards don't seem to have noticed my little entrance. Alright, so far, so good…now for actually killing them.

I steal a quick look over the left side of the counter, the two guards playing chess engrossed in their game, shotguns leaning on their chairs. They're going to be the easiest. From this distance, I can headshot both of them before they can even stand, which solves that problem. The other two…that's going to be an issue. It's a square room, about ten metres wide each way, and the other two are patrolling up and down in alternate directions. If I duck out, at least one of them's going to see me. Fuck…

I put my head down quickly as the guard on the left turns around, but thankfully he doesn't see my head. Alright…if he gets close enough to this counter, I should be able to take care of him before the others realise. I hear his footsteps growing closer, and I silently urge him not to stop. Come on, buddy, get right up to the counter and make my day…

I see his feet jutting around the corner, and I make my move. The other patrolling guard has his back turned as I jump up quickly, swinging both hands up and smashing the surprised human under the jaw, his head falling back limply as I grab the dazed man by the neck of the armour and pull him quickly behind the counter and out of view. A swift punch to the back of the head puts him out of his daze and straight into unconsciousness, as I look back over at the other guards. The two playing chess don't seem to have noticed a thing…but the other is looking around frantically for his mate. Ah, shit.

"Hey, you guys seen Chris?" he asks, looking over at the ones playing the game, a human woman with a harsh expression and a turian who, from the looks of things, is getting hammered by her. "He was just there a second ago, and I didn't see him leave…"

"He probably stepped out to some air," the woman shrugs. "It's boring enough in this place. Especially when the competition around here is shit."

The turian growls lightly. "I'm trying…you humans came up with this game. You're cheating."

"Look, Chris wouldn't just leave," the bloke standing up says. "I'm gonna go have a look for him." Oh, like hell you are! I hear his footsteps growing closer far, far too quickly, as I reach down and draw the pistol in one hand, knife in the other. At least I got one guy with stealth…here goes subtlety.

I hurtle out from behind the cover, using the element of surprise as I charge the guard standing up, thrusting up with the knife hard and driving it into his chest. I catch him just gawping at me, staring down at the weapon sticking in his gut as I turn around with the pistol, executing the human with an easy shot to the head. The turian falls backwards, reaching for his shotgun, causing my first shot to miss, but the second catches him in the neck, the third the temple as he falls back limply.

The human I stuck the knife in falls backwards to the floor, gasping as he struggles weakly to remove the knife, face turning ghostly pale as blood pools on the blade. I lift up the handgun to his head, quickly pulling the trigger. I guess it's some kind of mercy for him. I yank the knife out with a grunt, trying to wipe it off as best I can as I head for the door leading to the cells. That's the guards all cleaned out…so I suppose we can get the assault team in now. Even if we're not going to be able to plant those charges quite as quickly as we'd hoped.

Fortunately, the door to the slave quarters are unlocked. About time I got a stroke of luck today…I take a step through, smiling under my helmet.

The sight before me wipes the smile off straight away.

There's ten cells in rows in the room, with clear walls and roofs to let me (and presumably the guards) look in at the slaves. I really wish I couldn't. Each cell is only three metres in width and length, yet there's five in each one. And the conditions…I can vaguely make out what appears to be some manner of bucket in each cell, but there's no beds, nothing. Just hard floor, which seems to be stained with something in spots. I don't want to know what. The stench of the place is almost overwhelming, forcing me to breathe through my mouth, the use of my nose making me feel like gagging.

Then there's the slaves themselves. There's a mix of just about every species…but they're all in similar states. Humans have their ribs poking through their skin, scratches and burns all over their body as the ones not sleeping stare at me with bloodshot eyes. Turians with plates physically missing, some with a part of their fringe looking like it was snapped off. I feel sick seeing that…the fringe is a sensitive area, so snapping it like that, I don't even want to think about.

Wherever I look, it's roughly the same picture. People who've been abused, damaged, some of them permanently from the looks of things. And all of them have the same black band around their necks, as the sleeping ones begin to rouse and come to the walls of their cells, staring at me with a mixture of hope and despair.

I didn't have any doubts about having to get rid of Mirki'it before, but now…I feel like tearing him apart myself.

"I'm getting you out of here," I announce, trying to keep my voice confident despite what I'm seeing. "Just sit tight until I can get these doors open, alright?" The slaves all exchange nervous looks, until one, a human who looks a bit fitter than the rest, addresses me from his cell. He must be new in…from the looks they haven't broken him yet.

"You can't," he begins to explain. "If we run, then-"

"You've got bomb collars. We know," I say reassuringly. "There's an explosives expert that's going to be arriving here shortly, he can get you out of them." I hope. "And we've taken care all of the guards, so don't worry about that. You're going to be okay." The words sound convincing enough, even if I'm not totally sure I believe them myself.

"We?" I suddenly chance upon what appears to be door controls, as the human poses the question. "Who are 'we'?"

I turn my head to face him, though all he's going to see is my visor. Still, it looks sufficiently badass to be a comfort, I reckon. "We're Archangel's crew. You might've heard of us." The human's eyes widen at that, and there's some excited chattering amongst the other people in the cells when they hear. Obviously quite a few of them got taken here rather recently, since they've heard of Archangel…but from the looks of things, they're going to trust me a hell of a lot more for it.

"Archangel's here?" someone gasps.

"Well, not quite, but give it a little while and he should be." I pause as I fiddle with the controls, my finger hovering over the door release, as I turn back. "Look, I appreciate you're all scared. But we can get you out of here, if you trust us. So, when I let you out, I need you to go into the factory and follow the instructions you're given. Okay?" I feel really sorry for these people…but you still have to remember, however much I'd rather forget, that they're drug addicts. Some might be calm now, but I imagine mood swings and erratic behaviour might be a risk. I'm not worried about them trying to overpower us, since they know we're helping, but someone going crazy and trying to run out the door is a definite possibility…

I get nods off seemingly every slave, some more enthusiastic than others. It'll have to do. I'm not exactly going to leave them in their cages. I stab down on the button, all the door simultaneously sliding open. I expect all the slaves to charge out or something…but instead, they simply walk towards the factory area, the weaker ones helped along by their fellow prisoners.

I watch with a surprised expression, as I take up the rear. I guess I should appreciate that they're co-operating, but they seem so…lifeless, I suppose is the word. You can see some of them have hope, but from the looks of things none want to cling onto it, lest it get torn away again. Whatever they've been through did this to them, and I don't think I'll ever understand it. And I don't ever want to.

##########

"Alright, Weaver. Talk me through this."

It didn't take long to get all the slaves together in the centre of the factory, around five minutes, and now Garrus and the rest of the squad are moving in to secure the building while we try and work out how exactly to go about removing these collars. Admittedly, when Weaver gets here he'll be able to go about defusing stuff in person, but the more people we've got able to remove the collars, the faster this can work.

Mierin's still up in the control room, and I've been helping Melanis make sure everyone's calm. Most are fine, but we've got a few clearly going through withdrawal symptoms…scratching at themselves, looking around nervously, a total inability to stay still. No-one's turning violent, though.

Garrus got back to me not long after I returned the factory, with Weaver on the radio ready to talk me through the process. Obviously, attempting to disarm a bomb in front of roughly a hundred people with the same thing on them wasn't the best idea, so I've taken one of the calmest and most willing slaves to a secluded area off the side of the facility, hidden behind some vats. He's a salarian, missing bits off both his horns, but he's co-operating fully. Someone has to go first, I guess…

"_Listen carefully," _Weaver says sternly into my ear. _"I need you to identify what type of collar this is."_

I frown underneath my helmet. Already I have no fucking idea what he means…so we're off to a good start. "There's different types?"

"_Different manufacturers, yes. __Garrus told me you recognised this type of collar from C-Sec. Can you remember who makes it?" _The way he says it suggests it's not really much of a question, more of a command. Which is fair enough, given what's at stake…I close my eyes, trying to think back to that presentation.

I know it wasn't any of the really, really big names like Surta Foundation, Ariake or Elanus Risk Control…but I'd definitely heard of them in passing from the games, I remember a little flash of recognition when the name had come up in that briefing about bomb collars. The company who made them had tried selling them to private prisons like Purgatory, but their major customers had threatened to pull their contracts because of the controversy surrounding such a deal, so they never got sold and ended up floating around on the black market instead. Something Materials, definitely Russian sounding…

"Rosenkov Materials," I say, my eyes snapping open. "That's it. And they only ever made one model of the collar before they pulled the funding on research to it."

"_And I'm sure it's something that they'd rather forget ever happened," _the salarian mutters. He's right, to be fair. Rosenkov are one the galaxy's most renowned and respected manufacturers, particularly for armour, so disowning bomb collars isn't exactly a massive surprise. At least they abandoned the research, though I suspect if it had made them enough money they wouldn't have bothered… _"The collars are primitive, though, so that's fortunate. They still use wiring in places, which-"_

"You can cut to disarm the collar," I finish for him. Wow, I thought that only worked in the movies, but according to our bomb expert it's legit. I guess that makes up for the vent fiasco earlier, anyway. "I don't suppose you know which ones I need to remove?" I reach down to the belt of my armour, removing a small set of cutters. We keep them handy in the rare case of finding an alarm or something that still uses wires, which is a blessing now.

"_Can you see a red one? You need to cut that first." _I reach up carefully, my fingers shaking gently as I place the ends of the cutter over the wire in question, ready to apply pressure downwards. The salarian has his eyes closed, and appears to be muttering some kind of prayer. It's not helping my confidence. Just before I cut, Weaver adds another instruction. _"After that, remove the blue wire." _

I look around the collar, then do a frantic double take when there's no blue wire to be seen. What the fuck? "I can't see it, Weaver. You sure there's a blue one?"

"_Have you cut the red one?" _he asks urgently.

"No, should I-"

"_Nonono!" _he says sharply, causing me to pull my hand away from the bomb collar quickly, my heart racing. _"Do NOT touch that wire!"_

The salarian wearing the collar opens his eyes as I pull away, looking alarmed at my sudden retreat. Shit, he probably thinks it's gonna blow up…I raise my hands to him reassuringly, but he's still panting in fear as he stands in front of me. To be honest, I feel like joining him. "Weaver? What's wrong?"

"_They must have c__hanged the wiring." _I can hear the anger in Weaver's voice, though he keeps it as steady as he can. _"I'm going to need to see these collars. This isn't going to be as easy as just using some cutters. Our ETA into the factory is two minutes, let me talk to the others." _The lines goes dead.

Damn it! I feel like throwing the cutters across the room, or punching a wall, then realise the salarian slave is still staring at me. Got to keep it in check, for his sake. And everyone else's. We're supposed to be the ones saving them, so screaming and punching inanimate objects isn't going to inspire much confidence when I try telling them that everything's fine. Plus punching walls hurts a lot more than it looks like it will, I know that from experience. You don't feel like such a badass when you've got bruised knuckles and can't move your hand.

"What happened?" the salarian asks. "Am I free? Can I go now?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "Not quite yet. Come on, we need to get back with the others. You're just going to have to wait a little bit longer, alright? Archangel's going to be here in two minutes, and we're going to sort it out." I give him a gentle pat on the arm, making him give the salarian equivalent of a smile, but his eyes give away what he's really thinking as I lead him back to the others. I feel like trying to say something to cheer him up, then realise it's probably not going to work anyway. It takes more than a few words and a sit down to get over months in slavery.

He breaks away from me when we get back to the main factory area, anyway, heading over to a corner and slumping down with his back to a vat as Melanis walks over to me. "No luck?"

"Nope," I sigh. "Weaver's heading in with the rest of the squad, he's going to see what he can do."

"Well, no-one knows explosives quite like him," Melanis says. "He'll get them out of there, Ian. Don't worry."

"I'm not the one you've got to convince," I chuckle dryly. "Everyone here looks like…I dunno. We've come to get them out, so I was expecting at least some kind of happy reception, even considering the bomb collars, but no. After all this, they still don't think they're going to be set free."

"Do you think they will?"

I turn my head to stare at the female turian. "Yeah, I do. Everyone around here seems to worship Weaver for his abilities, so a bomb collar shouldn't be too much trouble for him. It's just weird that they've got no hope about this. We're the heroes, but…they don't believe in us."

"Give it time," Melanis replies. "Omega's never had people to protect it before. The merc groups have been running this place so long, people've forgotten what it's like without living in constant fear. It's normal. They stopped hoping for better things a while back. They might not believe in heroes now, but when we get them out of here, trust me. They will."

"Yeah," I nod, then the two of stand in silence for a few seconds. "Look, about what happened in that interrogation…"

"Ian, now's not the-"

"You were right." I say the words simply, but I genuinely mean them. "Seeing the slaves like this made me realise. It's not ideal, but it's what we've got. And if it means we can stop things like this, then so be it."

The female turian waits for a few seconds before replying, sounding surprised when she does. "Oh. Well…I'm glad you understand." Her tone of voice is surprisingly gentle, though, rather than the 'I told you so' tone I was expecting Melanis to use. She waits for a bit, then sighs. "And I should apologise to you too. I over-reacted." Whoa, now there's a shock! "I can't hold the fact you don't like that kind of interrogation against you, and I shouldn't have."

"You?" I say, unable to help chuckling lightly. "Apologising to me?"

"We're on the same team, last time I checked," Melanis replies, usual 'you really frustrate me' tone returning. "You're still annoying, I still don't like your attitude, and you still can't have any Tupari." Aww… "But if you don't like being involved in violent interrogation, I can't hold that against you. Kind of wish I was still like that."

"Still like wh-" I start, then get cut off by a collective gasp from slaves around the room, some standing and staring at the main entrance into the room. I swivel, placing a hand on my pistol…then lower it when I see a familiar turian in blue armour, eagle decal on the arm, striding towards Melanis and I with most of the squad behind him, including Weaver. He does really strike the heroic figure as he walks, just with how tall he is, the way he walks…no wonder the merc groups are so afraid of him by the time Shepard arrives.

"Thought you could do with some help," he announces as he walks, flanged voice reverberating around the factory walls. "This is more than a three man job, after all."

"Two men, one woman. Don't be sexist," I say, stepping forward myself and slapping him on the shoulder in a friendly way, leaning in close to whisper to him. "We should do this out of the way of all the slaves."

"Okay," he whispers back, before pulling away then beckoning to the female turian, the explosives expert and Butler, for some reason. We all move to a slightly more secluded area, still in sight of the slaves, but out of earshot. "What's the situation?"

"We've got roughly one hundred slaves, all fitted with explosive collars that we're told will detonate if they leave the building," Melanis explains, her words clipped and efficient. "All the guards have been cleared out, so theoretically we should have a good few hours before anyone begins to get suspicious. That should be enough."

"I haven't seen the collar yet," Weaver mutters. "So I don't know how long this is going to take. Even if each defuse only takes a minute, we'll need roughly two hours to get everyone out."

"Well, there's got to be something in the building that trips the collars when they leave, like an invisible wall around the place" Butler points out. "Could we no just destroy that and save ourselves the bother?"

"Yeah, or the device works by making a field inside the factory," I say, the thought suddenly popping into my head. "If it's turned on, the collars don't detonate, but if it goes off or they walk out of range…kaboom."

"Shit, Shaw, I didnae think of that…"

Weaver sighs exasperatedly. "If we want to get anywhere, I need to see a collar. Please." Oh, right he is…I quickly jog away, searching the crowd of slaves for the salarian from earlier. It only takes a minute to get to him, roughly the same to convince him to come back for another try. He's certainly a brave one…

It only takes Weaver about thirty seconds to complete his examination, which ends with him glaring at the collar from under the helmet. Huh. That's probably not good. "I can defuse it," he explains. "But it's complicated. I'm going to need about two minutes with each one, at least."

"Can you explain the process to us?" Garrus asks. "If we all help, we can get this done quicker."

"Have you studied and used explosives for the past ten years of your life?"

"No…"

"Then you can't help," Weaver grunts. "Make sure we've got the perimeter secure. We're in this for the long haul." With a hundred slaves, that works out to three hours and twenty minutes. Long haul doesn't even do it justice…but it's worth it to get them out. Besides, the mercenaries aren't going to know any better, right?

There's a sudden crackle in my ear, and presumably everyone else's, as we reach our hands up to our ears at the nervous voice coming through. _"Uh…I think we have a problem."_

"What?" Garrus says, immediately taking charge. "Mierin, what is it?"

"_Well, there's a call coming through __the control room."_

"So, answer it and buy us a few hours, alright?"

"_It's not that simple." _Another pause. _"It's Mirki'it."_

Ah. Fuck.

**A/N: There we are! Should hopefully get this mission concluded next chapter, or if it runs on longer than I thought the one after that. ****Just in case Mierin wasn't nervous enough, now he's got the main bad guy to deal with…**

**Sorry this took so long. Really. I've been incredibly busy with family, real life stuff and so on recently, ****so I've had to type whenever I've had the chance. But, we're finally back, and I should be on a more regular schedule now since I go back to school tomorrow (weak cheer).**

**Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter!**


	17. Ian vs The Engineer

Chapter 17

One Night Only: Can't Stop Now

**A/N: Shout-out to any bronies reading. Why? Because I feel like it.**

Everybody in the circle just freezes in shock as Mierin relays the news. Mirki'it's calling us? I didn't think the situation could get any fucking worse, and now we've got the man we're trying to take down calling the building where we're carrying out an operation, while the life of a hundred slaves is hanging in the balance.

"_Erm…did you hear me?" _Mierin asks nervously. _"Because I need to pick up the call, but I don't know what to do after that."_

"He knows," Butler says immediately. "The wee bastard must've found out somehow. We need to fortify this place, keep whatever troops he sends away."

I still feel like I've got a whole swarm of butterflies in my stomach, but I try to calm down as I run things through in my head. Sure, we've got Mirki'it calling, which is an emergency however you look at it. But, this is his production factory. Just because he's calling doesn't mean he knows about us. He could be checking up on how work's going, wants a status report, maybe even rang the wrong number. Though the last one seems unlikely. Even so, there's no way he could know we're here, since all the guards are down and no-one saw us enter…

"He doesn't know," I decide, addressing the group. "He can't. There's no way I can think of for him to have found out."

"_Which one is it?" _Meirin's voice sounds even more high pitched in panic. _"It's a voice call, but if he's calling about our operation, I'm not sure I'm the best person to take this!"_

I quickly look over at Garrus, who's staring at the floor, seemingly lost in thought. He's only lost for a second, though, before his head snaps back up again. "Ian's right. He's got no way of knowing what's going on here. Mierin, you need to pretend that nothing's wrong. Keep him off the scent, and buy us time."

"_What am I supposed to say?"_

"Put the call on loudspeaker," Garrus orders. "So we can all hear it down here. We'll talk you through what to say."

Silence for a few seconds.

"Mierin, answer the call."

There's a small click as the comms line connects, and a typically gravelly batarian voice comes through into my helmet. "_What took you so long to answer?" _I kind of expected Mirki'it to have some kind of deep voice that screams 'evil villain', but he sounds pretty normal, to be honest. Pissed off, but normal. That almost seems like an anti-climax. I don't know about anyone else, but I always find cliché villains more fun to fight.

"_Uh…" _Mierin clears his throat, then manages to gain some composure. _"Sorry, boss, I went out to get something to drink."_

"_Oh." _Mirki'it sounds surprised at that, but not dubious. _"You're in a building with a hundred slaves. Next time, make them get your drink."_

"You're doing good so far," Garrus whispers. "Just go along with what he's saying and you'll be fine."

"_I'll do that," _Mierin says, even managing a nervous laugh at what Mirki'it said. _"What can I help you with, sir?"_

"_Sir?" _ There's a tone of suspicion in Mirki'it's voice at that. Fuck… _"It's 'boss' or my name, not 'sir'. And I don't recognise your voice, now that I think about it."_

"_I'm new here," _the salarian stammers, nerves seriously beginning to show. Come on, man, keep it together… _"The normal person who works here is off ill, they called me in to make up the numbers." _Cliché excuse, sure, but Mirki'it's got no reason to doubt it. Hell, the fact Mierin sounds so scared actually makes it more realistic, if anything. _"I was told it would be quiet this time of night."_

There's a pause, then the batarian bursts out laughing for a good few seconds. _"They told you it would be quiet? The foreman's had some fun at your expense, I think. So no-one mentioned that you've got a ship's cargo of sand to have ready for pick-up in…two hours?" _

My eyes widen as I look around the group again. "Has anyone seen any signs of a shipment ready to go?" I hiss. The total lack of response suggests everyone else is thinking the same thing. Damn damn damn! "Mierin, throw him off on this. Tell him…" I rack my brain frantically. "Tell him there's issues with the machinery, something like that! We'll have it ready in four or five hours." That gives us enough time to get the bombs defused and everyone out…

"_No, they didn't," _Mierin says, and I can hear him physically gulp on the other end of the line. _"Especially since we're having machine problems. We'll be able to get them fixed, but we're running two or three hours behind schedule."_

"_Is that a joke?" _Mirki'it growls, previous tone of anger returning. _"It's unacceptable! I don't pay the people in this factory for shit like this!" _I can't help but think he doesn't really pay any of the workers at all, but decide not to pass that little observation on to Mierin. _"Shipping prices for imports are too high, and the shipments we do get in keep getting sabotaged. I need this ready on time! I told the foreman that!"_

"_With respect, si-" _Mierin barely manages to stop himself in time. "_Boss, I'm just the messenger. Everyone is repairing this. We just need four hours and everything will be ready." _

There's an agonising wait, then we hear Mirki'it sigh. _"Fuck…fine. But you tell the foreman he can see me in the morning. People need to learn these kinds of mistakes are unacceptable. There's got to be…consequences." _Ah, there's the evil villain side shining through. I knew he had it in him! At least he's bought this story, though. It'll give us the time we need.

"_Absolutely," _Mierin says, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. _"I'll pass on the message. Is that all, boss?"_

"_Yeah, I'm-" _the batarian suddenly stops, then starts again. _"Actually, I need this done as soon as possible. You don't have any good engineers over there. I'm going to call the Suns and get someone qualified to speed this up."_

Aw, hell no! This time, Melanis is the one to advise Mierin. "Tell him we can't do that. Last thing we need is someone coming to us."

"_Boss, we'll have this ready. We don't need the help-"_

Mirki'it's voice is raised as he replies. _"No, I don't have time for fucking around. You've already shown you can't get the job done properly, so I'm sending an engineer in. He'll be with you in about an hour. That's final." _Before Mierin can say anything back, I hear the line go dead.

"Well, at least he doesn't know we're here," I say, as cheerily as possible.

"Yeah, for an hour. Until that engineer shows up," Butler mutters. "Then it's goodnight lads, show's over, it's been a blast-"

"We could kill the engineer," Weaver points out, as casually as if he was ordering a sandwich. "They won't find out about us being here with a bullet lodged in their brain."

"Beautifully put," I mutter under my breath.

"If we kill him and he doesn't report back in, it's going to make Mirki'it really think something's wrong," Garrus says. "First we tell him that machinery has broken down, then his engineer doesn't report back in…there's only so much coincidence he can take."

Melanis sighs, resting her head in a talon. "So, we can't kill the engineer, but we can't let them in here. What exactly _can _we do?"

"He can start defusing those bombs," Butler says, pointing at Weaver. "I cannae shake the feeling we've got a hundred grenades walking around and crying."

"Start defusing those bombs. Right. One day, Butler, I want to live in your perfect world where that's as easy said as it is done." Weaver sounds annoyed, but I think him and Butler seem to enjoy taking the piss out of each other. Not sure if now's the time, but…eh, whatever. "And there's a hundred of them. Did anyone consider that they might take offence to people being defused before them?"

Shit, he's right. "I doubt they're going to form an orderly queue," I admit. "Just in case what's outside wasn't enough, now we need to worry about dealing with the situation inside…"

"We can call them away discreetly, one at a time," Garrus suggests. "Of course, they're eventually going to notice when there's ten slaves suddenly missing…but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Weaver, once you get a collar off, tell the slave to run out of the side entrance and not look back. If things go badly…well, at least we'll have saved some of them." Fuck, that's kind of morbid…but true. Though 'saving some of them' feels like a shit consolation.

"I'll start taking some of the more excitable ones," Weaver mutters, obviously referring to the people who're jumping around like five year olds on a sugar rush. "Butler, I might need someone to hold them still. Bomb defusing needs precision."

"So…you want me to restrain an explosive that could go off if you fuck up defusing?"

"Yes."

"I don't get paid enough for this shite," the Scot sighs, turning his helmet to look at Garrus. "Not that I'm hinting at anything."

"Of course not," the turian replies, managing a chuckle.

Something's still bugging at me, though… "We still haven't really decided how to deal with this engineer, have we?"

"Do you have any bright ideas?" Melanis shoots back. Well, we apologised, which I suppose means we're back to being at each other's throats…

"Surprisingly, I do," I say, smiling under the helmet. "If we can't kill him or let him in, we could try turning him around. Take the armour from some of the guards, put it on, intercept him out the front of the factory and convince him not to come in. Say something about our reputation, that we don't want to look bad by relying on outside help…maybe even make it worth his while. If there's one thing I've learnt, money can do just about anything words can't around here." The body language around the group suggests they're unsure. "Come on, it's not like we've got any better ideas. If negotiations go wrong…we'll deal with them and take as much time as we get before Mirki'it realises what's up. It's not ideal, but it's what we've got."

"I hate to say it, but I think you're right," Melanis mutters. Haha, winning! "Who did you plan on having negotiate?"

Given the situation at hand, how well I've done so far, and the fact I really don't want to cock this up…I'm actually feeling kind of confident. "I was going to do it," I shrug, looking at Garrus. "If that's alright with you."

"Take Melanis too," he replies, nodding his approval. Oh, of course _she _has to come along! Though I suppose the whole thing might be easier and less suspicious if two people go out to meet the engineer, rather than one of us. To be honest, I'm really hoping the engineer is going to be someone with a hard hat, overalls, stubble, goggles and a large wrench, but somehow I suspect it's not going to happen.

"I suppose someone needs to make sure this goes smoothly," the female turian says, chuckling lightly as she moves to stand next to me. Ah, heaven forbid she works with me without making at least one comment about my competence…

"Our time limit just got even tighter, so you've all got jobs to do." Garrus' tone is firm as he addresses us. There's definitely a big difference between his 'leader' and 'casual' personalities, but I suppose that's good. "Let's get going. I'll stay down here and try to keep everyone calm. Weaver, Butler, start defusing those bombs and letting people go, but be quiet about it. I'll get some of the other squad members to help, the rest can stick with me. The later the other slaves notice we're releasing people, the better. Ian, Melanis, you find some disguises and get ready to meet our incoming friend. Everyone knows what they're doing?" Nods go around the group. "Good. Move out."

I let everyone else leave before I do, dawdling around awkwardly until they leave before I walk up to Garrus. I smile, even though he can't see it. "It's not going to be like on the Citadel, mate. We'll get them out."

"I know." I was expecting him to sound nervous, a bit edgy…but from the sound of it, he's fully behind what he's saying. Not letting this whole thing get to him. The strong leader we all need right now. He is awfully good at this…if he'd stuck with the turian military, who knows how far he'd have gone. If he'd learned to follow orders, anyway, though I'm certainly glad he's a 'bad turian'.

"Good," I nod, unsure of what else to say. "So, uh…yeah, good." I'm not sure why, but his reaction there kind of threw me. "I'd better get ready for this."

"Alright," he replies, then clears his throat. "You've done a great job so far, Ian. Really great. I knew I could rely on you."

"Thanks." I grin to myself at his words. We can only say a few words to each other, but it's enough to totally reassure me that things are going to be okay. "Try and keep everyone calm, yeah? Last thing we need is slaves rioting."

"I can always take some of the red sand supply and give them that to calm things down," he says, chuckling. "Though I guess that defeats the point. Now, go and buy us some time. I don't want Weaver feeling like he's rushed."

I laugh too, turning on my heel towards where Melanis went off to. "Last thing we need is the bomb disposal expert trying to cut corners. I'll let you know when the engineer comes in." I get a curt nod off Garrus, signalling the end of the conversation, and I stride off towards Melanis while dodging between shaking slaves.

We've got to buy four hours.

It's going to be the longest four hours of my life.

###########

**Forty****-three minutes later…**

**Slaves released: 21**

"Sky."

"No."

"Shuttle."

"Nope."

"Snake?"

"How many snakes have you seen outside of Earth, Mel?"

"This is a stupid game," the female turian sighs, as we stand outside the front of the warehouse, dressed in our 'borrowed' armour. I feel kind of weird wearing a dead person's clothes, but it's not like it's the first time. Funnily enough, I had to wear that dead bloke's clothes when I was doing the red sand case on the Citadel…coincidences are weird. "What did you say it was called?"

"I-Spy," I reply, grinning like a loon under the helmet. We've had nothing to do except wait, so I thought I'd have a bit of fun introducing it to her. "Come on. I've given you the letter, you need to guess what I'm looking at. Want another go?"

"No." She stands stubbornly for a few seconds in her new armour. Turns out we'd ended up killing a female turian during the attack on the factory when Mierin turned off the lights, so that's a plus. There's so many physical similarities until you get up close, we obviously just didn't notice. "Shotgun."

"Aha…no."

"This is impossible," Melanis growls. Man, I love being able to wind her up for a change!

"This is really easy," I say teasingly. To be fair, I only introduced this about five minutes ago, so maybe she just hasn't got the hang of things yet. "Come on, it's right in front of you."

Melanis stands stock still for a second, looking around, before her head snaps back to me. "Street."

"There you go!" I laugh. "See, it's not so hard! Now you take your turn. Give me the first letter."

"I can't believe you want to play a game in a situation like this," the turian says.

"It helps take my mind off it. Don't be a spoilsport." I nudge her on the arm. "Come on, take a turn."

Melanis sighs deeply. "C."

"Car," I say instantly, pointing up in the sky. Melanis nods dejectedly. "Hey, you're getting it now!"

"Yeah, I was worried the complex rules might get the better of me," she replies sarcastically. "Is that it? Are we done?"

"D."

"Shaw, I swear, this isn't funny."

"D."

"Dancer."

"We're not in Afterlife."

"Dickhead."

"Not quite what I was looking for," I grin. "Good to see you're picking up my sayings, though."

"I give up," she says, throwing her arms up in frustration. "You win. Congratulations."

I shake my head, chuckling. "You can't give up after two turns."

"I give up!" Damn, she's sounding really pissed off now…may as well just tell her.

"Dead person's armour! Come on, that was easy!"

"I'm amazed no-one threw you out of the airlock while you were fighting Saren," Melanis mutters, glancing around, before she sees something. "E."

I take a step back in surprise. "Wow, you're still playing? Uh…give me a second…"

"You don't have a second," she says urgently, pointing down the street. "It's the engineer. He's here." I immediately follow her talon, to see a human in Blue Suns armour striding towards us. Fuck…

"Hope you've got a silver tongue," I mutter to her, waving to the engineer. "Because we'll need it."

"Silver tongue?" Her tone suggests confusion.

"Never mind," I reply, as the Blue Suns man finally reaches us. "Alright, mate?"

"Yeah," he says, sounding a little hacked off. "As much as I can be at this time of the morning." He's got a point. It's really early Omega time, probably about one or two am. We can probably play that to our advantage…

"I hear that," I chuckle, finding it disturbingly easy to play this lie along. Though I've been doing it about my past for years now, with a fairly good success rate, so that shouldn't come as too much of a shock. "Getting landed with the graveyard shift pisses me off. My friend and I picked the short straw this month."

"That sucks," the man says apologetically. "Hopefully I'll be able to get you home earlier. Mirki'it called in some repair work on your machinery." Alright, here we go…this bloke seems friendly enough, so we _might _be able to talk him round. Got to take it carefully.

"Actually, it'll probably work the other way," Melanis replies. "We don't need the help. Now that we've worked out what's wrong with the machinery, it's just a matter of repairing it, and we know what we're doing. Sorry your time got wasted like this."

He looks a little bemused at that, fixing Melanis with an odd stare. "Even so, I can probably help."

"You don't have to, though," I say, as forcefully as I can without spooking him. "It's all under control. We're all staying up late, we don't need to keep someone else up as well."

"Really, it's no problem," he replies. Damn it, stop being so considerate! "Mirki'it wants me to report it in, anyway. If there's really nothing I can do, I'll up and leave, don't worry about that. Though I might hang around if you've got some coffee."

"It's all fine." Melanis is beginning to sound hacked off now. "We appreciate you coming out, but please, you don't need to bother."

"Look, buddy," the engineer says, sounding impatient. "I'm an engineer, that means I solve problems. Not problems like 'what is beauty', because that would fall within the purviews of your conundrums of philosophy." I gawp at him under the helmet. What kind of shit…"I solve practical problems. For instance, how am I supposed to fix some broken down machinery when people aren't letting me do my job? The answer is, asking politely. And if that don't work, ask impolitely, then get my superiors to ask. That's my view, thought by me, said by me, and you'd best hope it doesn't apply to this."

Wow. I'm not even sure how to come back from that…but we're going to have to. There has to be something plausible, maybe appeal to him about something…

"Mate," I say, lowering my voice to try and make it sound like I'm confiding in him. "I realise this is your job, and you want to help. I appreciate that. But…look, it's a personal thing. For all of us here. Accepting outside help, however well meaning, makes us look weak. And you know what Mirki'it's like, right?" The engineer nods slowly. "Weakness is bad. Weakness means people getting taken out of work, and I need this job, man. We need to prove we can take care of things."

"I still need to report this back," he says, cautiously.

Melanis steps in now. "You can. Tell him we had everything under control when you got here. Which we do, so you wouldn't be lying. I know you've got your orders to look around, but you'd be doing us a favour."

"A huge favour," I add. "I hate to play this card, mate, but I've got a wife and kids. I…I need this job." I'm about to try fake crying, when Melanis subtly kicks me on the side of the leg. Maybe I'm overdoing it a little. The engineer gives me a sympathetic look, though, as he nods his head.

"Fine," he sighs. "But if anyone asks, I did my job and looked around. And if I see you around, you owe me a drink. Both of you."

I laugh, perhaps a little too loudly due to relief. We did it! Thank Christ we got a nice guy sent over here. "Whatever you want, pal. Right?" I nudge Melanis on the arm.

"Right," she says quickly. "Thank you. Seriously. You don't know what this means for us."

"You guys sure over-react," he mutters, laughing. "I don't see what the big problem is, but you're getting so wound up about it, I can help you out. And you're right, it does get me home earlier. It just doesn't seem like a life or death situation."

I fix him with a serious stare underneath the helmet. "If you worked here, seriously, you'd understand."

"Alright, alright," he says, putting his hands up in a placating fashion. "I'll call this in and go home. You folks have a pleasant night, now."

"You too," I respond, barely managing to keep my voice steady as he turns and slowly walks away. Once he's out of sight, I breathe an enormous sigh of relief, and turn to look at Melanis. "Too close?"

"_Way _too close."

###########

**Two hours, ****twenty six minutes later**

**Slaves released: 94**

We're almost done. I can't believe it, but we're almost done.

Almost two and a half hours I've been hanging around the factory, after getting my own armour back on, with my heart in my mouth, expecting mercenaries to jump into the building at any second and screw this whole thing up. But it hasn't happened. Somehow, we're going to get away with this.

Even the slave rebellion we expected didn't happen. When they finally realised that people were being released (and to their credit, it didn't take them long), I thought there'd be the selfish reaction of people trying to hurl themselves to the front of the queue and escape. No such thing. Instead, when they realised Weaver could defuse bombs, the reaction was mostly jubilation, and the people with a stronger constitution actually volunteering to be left until last, so the weak could get out first.

Sure, there were one or two who demanded to be released first, but a mixture of Butler shouting at them and the rest of the slaves helping 'talk' them around solved that problem rather quickly. Once again, I misjudged people, and they never cease to amaze me. Despite everything they've been through, the show of unity was…spectacular. Especially in a place like this.

I've had people thanking me and the rest of the squad as they leave, crying with joy, swearing to spread 'tales of our heroism', to quote one particularly emotional turian. Initially I was cynical about Melanis said about people learning to believe in heroes…but she was right. We've given them hope. And we're coming into home stretch here.

"That's another one!" Weaver shouts, carefully detaching the collar and handing it to Erash, who places it next the enormous piles and rows of the things we have now. I'm not exactly comfortable with stacking them, considering the explosive aspect…but Weaver's assured us they're harmless when disarmed, so I'm comfortable with it. I trust Weaver, anyway.

I don't think I've seen many people, if anyone, more committed than him. It's incredible. Just over three hours straight he's been defusing, making no mistakes. He's never asked for a break, never complained, barely even spoken except to ask for help or more slaves to help. What a guy. Hell, the whole squad's proven exactly how good we are.

"Nice work," Garrus says, as the next slave steps forward. "Five more…spirits, we're going to need a drink after this."

"Drinks," Butler quickly corrects him. "Definitely more than one."

"Tap water, Ian?" Melanis asks sarcastically, brushing past my right hand side. There's a relieved air in the room, despite the fact we're not done yet. It feels okay to crack a few jokes, anyway.

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it," I reply. "Keeping away from that sugary rubbish and alcohol is gonna keep me alive years longer than you bastards."

Melanis chuckles. "You actually believe that?"

"No, damn it!" I put on a mock-annoyed tone. "Give me my incredibly unhealthy soft drink!" I manage to get a proper laugh out of her at that, as I lean back against a vat and close my eyes. The sooner I get this damn helmet off, the better…I'm seriously sick of this damn thing.

"Oh my God. They're not staff. That's Archangel! And Dreadpool!"

The sound's just a whisper, but I whirl around immediately and look towards where it's coming from. A Blue Suns helmet looks back at me. Three of them. Shit, the next shift of guards must've arrived for work! And one of them has their omni-tool open for a comm. line! And one of them said my alias completely wrong!

FUCK!

I draw my pistol immediately, dropping down to one knee as I line the sights up with the closest merc's head, and send a bullet straight through it before he reacts, whilst shouting at the top of my lungs. "Guys! Problem!"

I hear everyone else on the squad turn to my position, and the sound of weapons being drawn as the remaining two mercenaries' eyes widen. And one of them begins to speak into the omni-tool.

"Code red, send help-"

Both are eviscerated under a blitz of automatic weapon fire, bodies juddering from the sheer amount of rounds poured into them. The barrage only lasts two seconds, blood stains splattered all over the vat and floor behind the mercs as they crumple lifelessly to the ground. A few seconds too late. Fuck!

I leap to my feet, quickly addressing everyone. "The next shift turned up, must've somehow got past the cameras without us noticing. One of them just called for help, so we're going to be up to our ass in mercenaries really damn soon!" How can everything go to shit _now_? There's only six defuses left! Less than a minute, and we're thrown straight back in the deep end…

"Right," Garrus shouts, hurling himself into the role of leader without a second's hesitation. "Set up a defensive perimeter. I want every route into here covered! Focus on the main entrance, and where we're sending the slaves out of, they need the most protection! Ian, head up to the control room, see if you and Mierin can hinder mercenary progress if they show up! And Weaver...I know you're going as fast as you can, but go faster."

"On it!" I yell, as everyone else shouts the affirmative and heads to their respective entrances. I catch a quick look at Weaver, hands dancing across the collar at breakneck speed, look of furious concentration in his eyes. We probably need about ten minutes here.

This can't go wrong now. It can't. I won't let it.

###############

**Four minutes later…**

**Slaves released: 97**

"How'd you miss the next shift of guards getting in here?" I ask, as I burst into the control room and start frantically scanning the controls near Mierin, as he flicks switches to lock doors and cut off power to non-essential areas himself.

"I wasn't watching the right cameras," he shouts back. "There's a lot of them, we got unlucky! I'm sorry!"

I breathe deeply, trying to control myself as I look at the switches in front of me. Mierin seems to have deactivated everything important…he's done a good job up here. I need to stay calm, and remember who's team I'm on. "You're right. I take it back, Mierin, it wasn't your fault." The salarian nods, albeit nervously. "Three more to go. We can't fail now…"

"Two more," the salarian points out, looking over to a camera showing another slave making a run for it. "Then Weaver plants the charges and we get out of here, right?"

"Vortash will be on stand-by," I nod. Wow, I'd almost forgotten the whole point of the mission was to actually destroy this place… "Reinforcements are going to be all over us any second now, so it's going to be one hell of an escape. You up for it?"

Mierin chuckles. "I've been stuck in here for hours. A little bit of action might be okay."

"That's the spirit," I say, trying to sound enthusiastic as I stare at the camera on Weaver, willing him to work even faster. Come on, come on-

The sudden sound of the comm. system bursting into life makes me jump, as I look down at the panel on the control desk, all too familiar name burning into my retinas.

_Incoming call: Thralog Mirki'it_

"Should I-" Mierin begins to say, but I hold up a hand for silence. This bastard's locked these slaves up, treated them worse than animals, supplied the red sand that put them into this position in the first place, given money to the merc groups, and consistently proven himself to be what we called back in the UK a total wanker. And I want to tell him that.

"I've got it," I say, reaching down and answering the call before Mierin can protest. "What's good, Mirki'it?"

"_Who the fuck is this?" _he demands. _"I've got reports of intruders in the building, and a security detail is on the way. Whoever you are, you fucking imposter, you won't escape with your life! If this is Archangel, your days of vigilantism are-"_

Alright, I can't listen to this crap anymore. Something inside of me just snaps, as I cut him off furiously. "Shut it," I growl. "Now, you listen hard, wanker, and you listen good. You're going to see this factory go up in flames tonight, your slaves rescued and gone, and your business gone with them. Then we're coming for you."

"_You don't know who you're dealing with. I'll destroy-"_

"I know damn well who I'm dealing with," I shoot back. "I've dealt with your type before, drug dealers, petty crooks with delusions of power. So let me tell you something. The next click you hear is me hanging up the line. The one after that is me pulling the trigger."

I slam my finger down on the 'disconnect' button, looking up to see Mierin staring at me. "What? Something I said?"

"You earned your reputation at C-Sec," he says simply. "Because…well, you told him."

"Someone had to," I shrug, looking over to the cameras. Alright, Weaver's on the last slave…but I can see the first signs of mercenary activity outside. We've got about three minutes before they try and burst in, I reckon. The squad should be able to hold them off for a bit, but not long. Ten minutes tops to finish here. That should be enough. "How much longer do you think he's going to-"

I see the collar come off, and Weaver frantically signal for the final slave to leave, despite the fact the poor asari is trying to thank him. But she's going, eventually, as he pulls what appear to be explosive charges out…and starts planting them around the large pile of bomb collars we collected.

Now that's genius.

"_Charges are in place," _Weaver says through the radio. _"What now?"_

"_Everyone head to the roof, double time," _Garrus barks. _"Vortash is ready to get us out of here. All the slaves made it?"_

"_We got them," _Weaver replies, and there's definitely a hint of pride in his voice as he says that. So there should be. Weaver's a total legend in my eyes now. _"And being in this building when the charges go off is a bad idea. I thought we could turn the collars against them, so they're rigged to explode."_

I hear Garrus chuckle at that. _"Good thinking. Alright, abandon your positions. We're leaving in three minutes, whether you're on that shuttle or not." _I know he doesn't mean it…but a small part of my brain is still paranoid that he might. Best not to risk it.

"You ready to get out of here?" I ask Mierin.

"I've been ready for a long time," he replies. "After you." I take one last look at the cameras as we run to the door…and they show mercenary troops converging on the building. We couldn't have cut it any closer. Damn, these mercs are in for a shock once Weaver blows the charges.

Mierin and I take the stairs up two at a time, my breath rattling in my lungs as I use the banister to propel myself forwards. I can hear other squad members, too, above and below us on the stairwell, making their way to the roof access. There's a sense of urgency, but jubilation as well. I swear I can hear Butler whooping, which brings a smile to my face as I take on the final two flights of stairs, despite the protest of my legs. Just a little further…

The door leading to the exit is already open, both mercenaries we took down upon entrance still lying in their respective positions as we rush past them, up the thin corridor…and out into the red light of Omega. The feeling of being outside again throws me, seeing the expanse of the city rather than the interior of a factory, and the sudden noise of life assailing my senses. It even makes me stop in my tracks for a second to take it all in.

Then I feel something smack into the back of my helmet, and Melanis rushing past. "This isn't the time to start appreciating the view!" Damn it…I follow after her, leaping into the Kodiak's interior, as I count seven other squad members, including Vortash. Montague and Laet don't come on missions, so…we're waiting on two people. Weaver and Garrus.

Almost as soon as I think that, the door leading into the factory opens, and Weaver sprints out, alone. I feel relieved to see him, then my heart suddenly skips a beat as I realise Garrus is nowhere to be seen. What the hell? He should've been here before Weaver…did he fall on the stairs? Mercs manage to get a lucky shot in? Shit, I need to go back in and –

A flash of blue hurtles out of the door, and I breathe a sigh of relief as a familiar turian throws himself into the shuttle next to me, already yelling at Vortash. "Get us out of here! Now!"

The pilot complies immediately, the force of the acceleration knocking me back as we take off, hurtling away from the factory. I can see haphazard lights of mercenary vehicles and troops below, as Weaver reaches for the detonator, only pausing for a second before stabbing down.

The small lights I saw before are engulfed in one enormous explosion, the sound of shattering windows and screech of alarms filling the night air as we pull away into the distance. I stare out at the gradually receding explosion, before turning around and looking at the others, grinning like a madman as my helmet folds back into the armour.

"We did it. Holy shit, we did it."

The whole passenger area suddenly explodes in movement, cheers and relieved laughter filling the air as people high five, slap each other on the back, hug and generally celebrate. Except Grundan, who just sits in the corner looking annoyed, but that's not too surprising.

Garrus comes at me, arms outstretched, as I return the gesture and pull him into a brotherly hug, laughing. If I was wondering about whether fighting was worth it before, I'm sure as hell not now. This is exactly what I signed up for. A hundred slaves saved, a red sand factory destroyed, one crime lord now shitting himself, and I've got an awesome squad to celebrate with.

Mission fucking accomplished.

**A/N: We're done! With this mission, anyway.**** Ian's faith has been restored, yet another building has been destroyed, Weaver proves himself to be a legend, and I reference about three different things. All in a day's work. I figured things should go right for the squad once in a while…**

**Next, it's back to the base, and time to start considering how the squad is going to go through on Ian's threat to kill Mirki'it. The final chapters of the case are upon us, which is nice. I might even update Case Zero once the case is done, those of you reading it.**

**The update rate is probably going to stay about this level. Sixth form is a big step up in workload, which sucks, but I want to do well so I need to get it done, haha. You haven't been forgotten, but real life comes first.**

**Oh, and it was my birthday three days ago, so that was nice. If you want to give me some kind of present, next time you see a charity box or something like that, put some money in. However much you want. It'd be cool.**

**Thanks for your continued support. It's awesome. As usual.**

**Later!**


	18. Ian vs The Vodka

Chapter 18

Young the Giant: My Body

"One water, just for you, Ian."

"Oh, goodie. I've been looking forward to this all night. Nothing takes the edge off like a glass of water. Omega water, no less." I take a sip out of the glass, as the other squad members gathered around smile at our little exhange. "Some people say you can actually taste the sewage, you know. Apparently it adds to the flavour."

Melanis chuckles. "We didn't have any bottled water."

"We've got plenty of bottled Tupari, you know. Funny that." I sigh, leaning back into the couch and looking up at the female turian, her orange facial markings spread at her mandibles in amusement. The markings are in a similar style to Pallin's, actually, as opposed to the more subtle streaks Garrus and Laet have. It's cool, though, I always thought Pallin looked pretty awesome. I'd never tell him that, mind. "Though I suppose I should be flattered that you're taking such an interest in my health, while he drinks himself to death over there." I point at Butler, who's downing a beer to the enthusiastic encouragement of Laet and Sidonis.

"Butler's a lot older than you, he can handle his alcohol," she replies, taking a seat opposite me, in her usual spot next to Montague. The celebrations started almost immediately when we all arrived back, once everyone put their weapons away and got out of the armour. I've got a long sleeved v-neck with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, with a white t-shirt underneath, along with jeans and a pair of converse. Everyone else is wearing the usual clothes for the era, unfortunately, but at least I keep my distinctive style.

"I'm not asking to drink alcohol!" I say. "It's a soft drink!"

"Look, I don't make the rules," Melanis shrugs. "I just apply them with a helpless and defeated attitude."

"Well, you're doing an excellent job," I mutter sarcastically. "And I know you make the rules."

She waves a talon, mandibles widening in a satisfied smile. "Actually, the training diet was Garrus' idea."

"You don't think you're taking it a bit too literally?"

"Garrus!" Melanis shouts, making the other turian look over. "Can Ian have a Tupari?"

"No!" Garrus shouts back from his position near Butler, laughing as I flick him off. I don't even like Tupari that much, but now it's become a matter of principle. By the time this is all over, I'm having one. I don't know how, but I'll think of something.

"I told you," the female turian says, gently taunting me. "Sorry. If it's any consolation, you didn't do a bad job tonight."

"Not bad?" I gawp at her. "What the hell constitutes to good?"

"Stick to the training diet, you might find out." She laughs as I roll my eyes and get to my feet, looking over to Butler and the others. I'm legitimately rage-quitting the conversation…but I doubt she'll mind, given that Montague's sitting next to her. They don't seem that intimate, but I suppose some couples are just like that. Maybe it's because I'm around. Whatever.

"This is revenge for I-Spy, isn't it?" I say, pausing mid-stride as I head towards the rest of the squad.

"Do you think I'm that petty?"

"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"

Melanis growls softly, flexing her talons in a menacing fashion. Conversation's over, I think…I take a quick walk down to Butler, taking a glug of water as I move. To be fair, even if I'd rather have a Tupari, the water is hitting the spot after being cooped up in the factory and my helmet all that time. I must've lost a lot of fluid from the amount I was sweating from all the stress, so this replaces that rather nicely. Still, matter of principle and all that.

"Shaw!" Butler bellows, stepping forward and slapping an arm around my shoulder. "I thought you weren't going to come over! We're already four rounds in, but you're only young, you can take a handicap."

"Hello, Butler," I say nervously, getting the horrible feeling I've come out of the frying pan and into the fire as I look over at Sidonis and mouth 'what the fuck'.

"Weaver and Butler are having a drinking competition," the turian sighs. "Don't ask me why, it had already started when I got here." There's a smile playing around Sidonis' mouth as he says that, so I think he's secretly enjoying this. As much as I want to hate him for what he's going to do in the future…I really can't. Not yet, anyway.

"Why? Because I'm…" Butler pauses mid-sentence, looking down at his hand and raising three fingers, one at a time. "I'm three times the man he is!"

"Assuming we measure 'being a man' by how much alcohol you can drink while remaining conscious," Weaver mutters from next to him, looking no worse for wear. Butler, on the other hand, is clearly hammered.

The Scot laughs loudly, looking at his adversary. "See, that's what I'm talking about! Talking all this shitey science rubbish…" It's funny seeing this, but there's no way Butler can win.

"Mate, come on," I say, smiling as he continues to hold his arm on my shoulder. "Salarians have rapid metabolisms. You'll probably be dead three times over before Weaver even gets tipsy. And frankly, it's irresponsible he actually agreed to this." I glare over at the salarian, who shrugs casually.

"Fuck that!" Butler shouts, finally letting me go and glaring at the shot glass on the table in front of us. Oh, perfect. "I'm no' giving up! Not to him!" He reaches over the bottle of what appears to be some kind of vodka, pouring two glasses and forcing one onto Weaver.

The salarian looks down at it, then back up at Butler, bored expression on his face. "Your funeral." With that, he slugs it back as if it were water, calmly placing the glass back on the table. Butler downs his too, but winces heavily as he does so, slamming his shot glass back down on the table with some force, making him stagger a bit. He's still up, though, which is impressive. Considering this is only the fifth round, and Butler's in this state, whatever they're drinking must be strong. To put it lightly.

"Easy!" the human shouts. I facepalm as he reaches for the bottle again. "Come on, Shaw, join in! I'll drink you both under the table!"

"I don't drink, Butler," I say. I swear, if I had a credit every time I said that… "This is why."

"Man up," he says disdainfully. "After everything you did tonight, I thought you had some bollocks."

"Oh, good, we're already onto comments about testicles in relation to how tough we are," I reply. Given that he's drunk, my devastating sarcasm is probably lost on him, since Butler doesn't react at all. "Besides, if anyone's got 'bollocks', it's Weaver after tonight." I give the salarian a respectful nod, and get a half-smile back for my troubles. "Anyone else feel like a toast?"

"I dinnae even _like _toast!" Butler screams. We all ignore him, and raise our glasses.

I suppose I should probably say something, since I called this. "To Weaver," I announce. "For saving a hundred slaves, blowing up yet another building, and destroying Butler in a drinking competition."

"To Weaver," the rest of the crew gathered say, except Butler, who burps loudly. Sidonis, Laet, Mierin, Erash and Garrus, along with Montague and Melanis over in the corner. Vortash and Grundan Krul are nowhere to be seen, as usual.

"Just doing what I signed up for," the salarian shrugs modestly, but he's obviously pleased with himself. He deserves to be.

"I love you, Weaver, you're the best," Butler says in a sing-song voice, staggering over and slapping me on the back. "All this bullshit is making me feel sick."

"I think it's the amount you've drunk, rather than 'bullshit'," Laet comments. "I thought turians had stronger livers than you humans, but now I'm beginning to doubt it."

"I'm with you on that," Garrus says slowly, looking somewhat alarmed by Butler lurching around the place.

Erash steps forward at this point, bottle of some turian ale clutched in his right talon. Though I think it's the same bottle he's been drinking from all night, so he obviously knows his limits. Unlike some people I could mention. "Perhaps it would be unwise to continue this game. I fear our Scottish friend could end up incapacitated, which would be a shame after what we accomplished tonight."

"A shame? Let me tell you something, turian," Butler slurs, walking up to a mildly disgusted looking Erash. "If you don't end up incapictat-" He stops and reconsiders. "Incacapic-" Another pause. "Passed out, then it's a shite celebration."

"We've probably got a stun gun knocking around somewhere," I suggest. "That might speed up the 'passing out' process. Hell, drinking beyond your limits and getting tazered is the authentic Glasgow experience. Ought to remind you of home."

"Laugh it up, you Geordie bastard," the Scot shoots back. "You people don't know the first thing about a good night out!" I might take offense to that if he wasn't drunk, but considering he's going to have a hell of a hangover and a lot of regrets when he wakes up, I'll let it slide.

Weaver, thankfully, intervenes. "Round six, Butler. I'm still going if you are."

"Dinnae ask if I'm still going, you know the answer!" Somehow finding a second wind from somewhere, he stumbles back over to the table where the drinking game is taking place, then somehow manages to trip over himself whilst standing still and ends up on the floor. No-one really tries to help him up.

"What is a 'Geordie?'" Erash asks, sidling over to me. "I fear the reference may have been lost on me."

"Someone from the North-East of England," I reply, as Butler gets up again, shouting 'I'm alright!' over and over.

"Is it a racial slur?"

"Oh, no," I say quickly. "It's nothing like that. Butler really likes celebrating, doesn't he?"

"And Weaver enjoys goading him on," Erash chuckles. "Perhaps it's unfair to blame him. The argument that Butler's asking for this is rather convincing."

I chuckle as Weaver downs another shot with total ease, while the expression on Butler's face after he takes his makes it look like his head's going to explode. "Yeah, you've got a point there. Still, we just saved a whole load of people, and we've got Mirki'it on the ropes. Can't blame him for wanting to cut loose. Besides, everyone else seems mature enough not to end up in a similar state to him in case of emergency."

"I suppose you're right. Celebrations are in order, though, after our success. And my own personal success, I might add."

I raise an eyebrow. "Did I miss something?"

"On the contrary, you admired it," he chuckles. "The guard outside the control room. Shot through the window, if memory serves, didn't shatter the glass." Oh, I see where this is going… "And we had a bet. I believe I hit my shots this mission. Five hundred credits, was it?"

Ugh, I totally forgot about that. Still, I suppose the shot does deserve some kind of reward. "I know I'll recoup this next mission, so don't worry about it," I say casually, reaching over to my omni-tool…which isn't attached to its usual spot on my left arm. Damn, must've detached it with my armour and forgotten to put it back on. "I'll go and transfer the funds."

"It can wait," Erash says apologetically. "I don't mean to drag you away from the party."

"Nah, I'll just forget about it if I leave it," I shrug. "I'm a hopeless procrastinator sometimes. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes. Make sure Butler doesn't kill someone while I'm gone."

"I think he's more of a danger to himself than any of us," Erash comments dryly, making me chuckle as I excuse myself and head towards the staircase towards the dormitory.

There's no sign of Grundan or Vortash when I walk in, which is kind of a relief as I head over to the table besides my bunk, omni-tool placed on top of Erash's datapad.

"There you are, you bastard," I mutter to myself, reattaching it and booting up the system, orange display forming over my arm. Man, I love these things-

A sudden lurch in my stomach makes me step back, reaching out an arm to steady myself against the bed. What the fuck? I wait for a few seconds, not even daring to move, but the feeling doesn't return. Okay, that's odd. Guess I'm just paranoid over-

Another heave from my stomach, this time enough to make my right knee buckle as I clutch at the source of the pain. Fuck, I don't feel so good…another spasm causes me to double over, letting out a grunt of pain as my vision flashes orange.

"Oh God, not now. Preferably not ever, but not now-"

I suddenly retch involuntarily, taste of bile filling my throat. Bathroom. Get to the bathroom, now. I manage to force myself up, despite the pain, half-running, half-limping down the stairs towards the bathroom. No-one seems to notice me as I move, all too focused on Butler's antics, as I burst through the door, hearing it shut behind me, and wince in pain as I place my head above the toilet bowl. Another rush from my stomach, and this time the pain rolls through my whole body, making me break into a cold sweat as the orange tinge to my vision returns. I clench my eyes shut against the pain…

And that's when it hits. The same vision I've been seeing for three years, still becoming more vivid each time. The screams are more real, my skin feels like it's scorching from the heat of the battlefield, as the usual images come flashing by, but slower. I can properly make out the faces of the Collectors, see a Reaper silhouetted against the sky, make out the pain and despair on Shepard's face as she falls, and my retinas burn from the light of a laser filling the sky, the robotic scream of a Reaper making me want to claw at my ears, anything to make the sound stop…

Then I hear something. For less than a second, it sounds like a letter, but I can't make it out, not over the screaming, the destruction, the hell being unleashed…

Reality comes rushing back, the shift so sudden and quick I can't stop myself retching once more, emptying my stomach into the bowl. When it finally finishes, I gasp in lungfulls of air and crawl over to the wall, resting my back and head against the cool surface as my whole body shakes, covered in sweat. I try to control my breathing, resting my face in my hands as the feeling of sickness suddenly evaporates, along with the last remnants of the vision.

"Not good," I whisper, as the pain recedes. "Fuck, that's not good…"

The door to the bathroom suddenly slides open, making me desperately try to scramble to my feet…then relax when I see it's Garrus. He, on the other hand, isn't looking relaxed at all. For good reason.

"Spirits, Ian!" The door shuts as he rushes over to me, dropping onto one knee and placing a talon on my shoulder. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I say, automatic response coming to my lips despite the fact I'm clearly not 'fine'.

"No, you're not," Garrus replies firmly, looking at me with a worried expression, mandibles pressed flat against his face as they quiver lightly. "Fuck, you're shivering…you need to warm up"

"What, you're going to hug me to do that, or something?" I chuckle. "It'll pass. I don't feel cold."

His serious expression doesn't change. "First aid training says I should do that." Before I can react, he puts his other talon around my back and pulls me in.

"Well, this is fucking awkward," I comment, feeling too weak to push him off. "Two totally heterosexual guys hugging in a bathroom. All we need now is for Melanis to walk in, and this'll be cemented as the most embarrassing moment of my life."

"You're back to being sarcastic, that's a good sign," Garrus admits, loosening off his grip as I push at him. He's probably doing it to wind me up, wouldn't put it past him…though his tone of voice and expression suggest real concern. "What happened to you?"

It's Garrus, so I can be honest. Thank Christ. "A vision," I sigh, leaning my head back again. "Out of nowhere. I started feeling sick when I was getting my omni-tool, then it flared up once I got in here."

"I thought your visions only came up as nightmares? When you were sleeping?"

"Yeah, so did I," I mutter. "Looks like that's gone to shit. They never used to make me sick, either."

"Maybe you should see if that…Shiara person knows anything to help," the turian suggests. "She seems to know more about what's going on than either of us-"

I shake my head firmly. "I'm not asking her. Last thing I'm doing is crawling back to Shiara, begging for help. Not when it's going to raise more questions than it answers. I'm not working for her little agenda anymore. I told her that, and I meant every word." I'm still certain about that decision…even with Saren running around somewhere out there. Because that's definitely going to end well.

"It was just a suggestion," Garrus says quickly, raising his talons, which lets me wriggle free from him. "These 'visions' are getting worse and worse, though."

"They're getting more vivid too," I point out. "I don't know how to explain it, but it's like...like I can understand them more every time." I cast my mind back. "I heard a voice at the end, that's never happened before."

"What did it say?"

I shrug, dropping my head again. "I couldn't make it out. It sounded like a letter, but I've got no idea which one. I think it's trying to tell me something, I just can't tell what. There's a Reaper apocalypse coming, these visions could be telling me how to avoid it, and I've got no fucking clue what they're saying!"

I realise I'm raising my voice as Garrus' eyes widen in concern. "It's not your fault. If they're getting more vivid, we can wait until you know for sure."

"Yeah," I sigh. "I guess so." We both stay in our respective positions for a few seconds, my head against the wall while Garrus crouches protectively over me, then the turian addresses me again."

"Are you feeling okay? You're not hurt?"

"Asides from damaged pride, which I've got barely any left of anyway, I'm good," I grunt, getting back up to my feet. Thankfully, all the sick ended up in the toilet bowl, so all I've got to do is flush. "Good thing you came in here, I suppose."

"I caught a glimpse of you running in," he explains. "When you didn't come out, I got worried. Is it a good idea for you to go back out there straight away?"

I shrug. "I know it sounds weird, but all the sickness disappeared with the vision. I feel totally fine now. Mission ready, even."

"If you're sure," Garrus says uneasily. "If things get any worse, you know you can come and talk to me."

"For another hug. Brilliant," I say, making the turian chuckle. "But seriously, I will. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he shrugs. "When no-one else knows the truth, you need someone to turn to. And it's funny you should mention mission ready…I was going to talk to you about that, anyway."

Hmm? "What about it?"

"Well, Mirki'it's scared now. His operation is down, he knows we're coming for him, so he's going to use whatever money he has left for survival. Increase his security, maybe even try to get offworld."

"The thought had crossed my mind," I admit. "You've got a plan?"

"Strike. Tonight," he says. "Before he can organise forces effectively. We'll have to go over the plan with the others, but it's the only way to be sure that we wrap this up."

"Hasn't everyone been drinking?"

"Asides from Butler, not really. Laet's had some, and so's Weaver…but we don't need them for what I've got planned. You're sober, I've not had anything, and I don't think Sidonis and Grundan have either. Since that's the squad I was thinking of…"

"Everyone's still buzzing from dealing with the factory," I say, mind starting to run the scenario through. It's perfect, actually… "Mirki'it sure as hell won't be expecting it. If we can pull it off, this is ideal."

"You're good to go? Considering you threw up less than five minutes ago, you'll understand if I'm a bit cynical about that."

"You've known me for three years, Garrus, I wouldn't lie to you. Trust me. I'm feeling fine," I say honestly. Now it's over, I'm good. Which is kind of bizarre… "After seeing what Mirki'it's done around here, we're not going to risk him getting away."

The turian nods, convinced. "Alright. I'll get everyone briefed…we're going to have to finish the party early."

"Good luck telling Butler that," I chuckle, heading to the couches as Garrus moves towards the others. "See you in a bit." The vision is still playing on my mind…but I push it to one side. I can reflect on it later. Right now, there's a job to do, and I can focus on that. I've got a threat I'd quite like to make good on.

#########

"So, everyone's here," Garrus says, bringing his talons together. "Sorry to cut the celebrations short, but Ian and I were thinking about Mirki'it."

"He was thinking about Mirki'it," I say quickly. "I resent the implication I had anything to do with stopping the party. And not everyone's here." I point to Butler, who's now passed out, dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. "Weaver, you might be a hero, but that was a dick move."

The salarian doesn't look too bothered as he glances at me. "Butler challenged me. I wasn't going to turn him down, or I'd never hear the end of it." Ah, that's a fair point…

"We shouldn't leave him like that," Montague mutters, rising to his feet. "If he vomits, he might choke on it. Or he could choke on his own tongue." The mention of 'vomit' makes me think back to the bathroom, and my stomach growls. I hope the waking visions aren't going to become a recurring thing… "I'll take him to the medical bay. You don't need me for this meeting, do you?"

"No, go and make sure he doesn't die," Garrus chuckles. "How much has everyone else had to drink, actually? I don't want to try this mission if people aren't thinking completely straight."

"I've had a few," Weaver says, raising his hand.

"We have too." That's Laet saying that, along with Mierin. No-one else speaks up, though, so I think we might be okay…

"Is that it?" Garrus asks in surprise. "That's, erm, less than I was expecting. Though I only need a squad of four for this, and Vortash to drive. Grundan, Sidonis, Vortash, Ian, you've not drunk anything?" I shake my head, as the other three do the same. "Good. This might work…"

"What might?" Melanis asks. "I can probably guess what this is about, but I'd quite like to hear it from you."

Garrus chuckles, shaking his head. "Yeah, I should explain. Sorry. We're going to end this, tonight. Head to Mirki'it's penthouse and finish him and his operation off, once and for all." The news is greeted by enthusiastic smiles around the room, and anticipation in the eyes of some squad members.

"I didn't realise we had his address," I say. "How did we find that out?"

"Mirki'it was never exactly subtle about being rich," Sidonis explains. "He has a large penthouse near the centre of Omega, on top of a multi-story building. There's status in showing off your wealth, though he'll be regretting it now he knows we're coming for him. Are we blowing this one up too, Garrus? It's been a recurring theme with Mirki'it, I'd hate to seem inconsistent."

"Some civilians occupy the lower floors," Garrus replies, unable to help smiling at Sidonis' question. "So no, an explosion won't be practical. We're going in to take down Mirki'it, anyway, not cause excessive damage."

"He's not stupid," Weaver muses. "The security force will be considerable. I doubt that you'll be able to sneak in."

"Who said anything about sneaking?" Garrus asks rhetorically. "After everything we've done so far, that's what he'll be expecting. This is one of the rare situations where someone isn't expecting us to come out all guns blazing, and I plan to take advantage of that."

"As stupid as it sounds, he'll never see it coming," Melanis says slowly, obviously thinking it through as she talks. "We've been hiding in the shadows while they've been taking the offensive, so if we turn the tables…"

"Then we gain the upper hand," I finish for her. It's risky, but Garrus and I can certainly handle ourselves, and I'm confident Sidonis and Grundan can too. Even if Grundan might kill me on the sly when no-one's looking. Still, we need a tech expert, so I'll have to live with that.

Garrus nods, satisfied. "Exactly." For some reason, it feels like we should be discussing it more, but there's genuinely nothing else to say. Mirki'it will be hiding in his penthouse, so we move in and finish this. For once, it's that simple. "I know this is sudden, but we need to attack before he can organise or flee. And if you're all ready…"

"We all saw what that bastard did to those slaves," Sidonis says. "I'm ready if you are."

"Count me in," I add, cracking my knuckles as best I can for extra effect. Grundan and Vortash simply nod, as usual. Would it kill them to say something from time to time…

"Good." Garrus smiles, mandibles widening as he looks around the group. "When we get back, then we'll have a real celebration."

"Can I get a Tupari then?" I ask.

"No."

"Aww…"

"Everyone who's coming on the mission, get your gear together, and meet up at the shuttle," Garrus orders. "It's time to give those slaves some payback." We all rise to our feet again, and I head off towards the equipment locker with Sidonis and Grundan close behind, while the others move back towards the fridge, presumably to continue the party while we're gone. Hopefully we'll give them something to celebrate about.

The memory of being sick is still on my mind as I reach into my locker and check the thermal clip, but it somehow seems insignificant compared to what we're about to do. If this was C-Sec, I'd still have a mountain of paperwork and bureaucracy to climb…but here, we're about to make sure someone who enslaves people and floods the streets with red sand can't continue his sick operation. Weeks of sabotage, interrogation, rescues and emotion, all boiled down to this moment.

Time to go finish the job.

**A/N: ****Bit of comic relief there, before we launch into the final part of this case. An assault of Mirki'it's penthouse…and, if you've read Garrus' Lair of the Shadow Broker dossier, you might know part of what's ahead. Even if you haven't, you'll see next chapter. **

**And the visions return, but now when Ian's awake? Whaaa? What could it mean? That's for me to know, and you to find out. But you won't for a long time (trollface).**

**Oh, happy late b****irthday, zGreece :-). There's your present, haha.**

**Thanks for reading, an****d have a nice day/afternoon/whatever time you're reading this. Bye!**


	19. Ian vs The Penthouse

Chapter 19

30 Seconds to Mars: This Is War

"So, have you managed to refine the plan beyond 'jump in and kill everything'?" I ask Garrus, as Vortash weaves through a spot of oncoming traffic and towards the centre of Omega, evidently having decided to take the straightest route possible, even if that means we cut through streams of traffic going in the opposite direction to us. Given the amount of absurdly dangerous shuttle journeys I've had in my time, I've honestly stopped caring.

"I didn't realise it needed any more refining," Garrus chuckles, putting on his helmet as he talks. Sidonis and Grundan are already good to go, apart from running some last minute checks on their weapons. Assault rifle for Sidonis, and a shotgun for Grundan, which ought to work rather well for breaking into a penthouse. "I thought you liked simple plans?"

"There's a fine balance between simple plans, and just winging it," I point out. "Can't help getting the feeling this is the latter."

"We're dropping onto the roof of the building, and Mirki'it's inside it somewhere. We move through it until we find him, we kill him, then we leave," Sidonis says bluntly. "Make sure you don't get shot, and that's all the planning you need for this."

I suppose that's good reasoning. Besides, the more childish part of me is realising I haven't been in this kind of combat situation for a long, long time. Being brought up on Ratchet and Clank probably left me with some repressed desire for destruction, because I'm thinking of all the fun to be had shooting up an expensive apartment. Too bad I don't have nine barrelled rocket launcher, but I can always ask Laet. "I guess that'll have to do," I shrug. "Besides, it's not like it matters if we plan ahead. Inevitably everything'll go horribly wrong and we'll end up improvising."

"I thought you'd appreciate me cutting out the middle section," Garrus laughs. Grundan does too, but I think it's him being sarcastic. Man, he's such a fun guy. "How much longer until we reach the target, Vortash?"

"One minute," comes the curt reply from the pilot. Wow, that's the first time I heard him speak. Didn't get a particularly good handle on what he sounded like, except for the typically deep turian voice. The flanging thing does sound really cool, actually.

"If we're lucky, they won't see us coming until we're right on top of them," I mutter, heading to the side door as Vortash opens it to prepare for the drop. I stick my head out, looking at the building we're rapidly approaching. Typical posh apartment block…with glass fronted penthouse on the roof, naturally, outdoor garden adorning the exterior of it. Oppressing the masses really pays, apparently…we'll have to see if Grundan can hack his bank account while we're there. "Maybe he didn't have time to get a security force together."

Sidonis shakes his head. "People like him are paranoid fuckers. As soon as he realised that factory was being attacked, he'll have surrounded himself with heavily armed mercs."

"When aren't they heavily armed?" I ask rhetorically, looking back out towards the building as we start to level with the roof of it. "I don't think they've seen us, thou-" From seemingly nowhere, three mercenaries spring up from behind a low wall in the garden, two of them gesticulating wildly at our shuttle. The other one doesn't join in, probably because he's a little preoccupied aiming a rocket launcher.

Oh dear.

"Scratch that, they've definitely seen us!" I reach for my pistol, as the sound of a missile being launched echoes through the air. Vortash lurches the ship down, so we might've avoided that one-

The tail of the shuttle suddenly kicks to the side, searing heat of an explosion rushing into my face as I fall to the side, scrabbling desperately to hold myself in the ship as Vortash tries to steady it. The attempts are somewhat futile, though, as I feel my stomach lurch as gravity takes hold and drags me towards the open door. One flailing hand manages to catch the lip of the shuttle's floor, leaving me dangling above an enormous fall, as Vortash somehow manages to keep us advancing towards the roof.

I let out of a yell of terror and shock at still being alive, kicking frantically with my legs to try and pull myself back into the ship. Which is easier said than done, with Vortash constantly moving to avoid incoming fire. Why me? Why is it always me? "Ian!" I hear Garrus bellow, and I manage to peek my head just over the lip of the shuttle floor to look at him. The turian, unfortunately, is bracing himself against a wall with the rest of the squad, so he's not going to be able to make it over here safely. Not with this tin can jumping around like a bucking bronco, anyway. "You alright?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic!" I yell back, sarcasm practically dripping off my tongue as I focus on holding on for dear life. "You know, just hanging around over here!"

"Hold on!" Sidonis shouts.

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

"VORTASH!" Garrus roars of the sound of the engines, amplified by the noise bouncing off the apartment building. "Bring us over the roof! We'll drop down there!"

My arms scream in protest as I try to renew my grip, seeing the roof slowly appear underneath me. "Whenever's convenient, you know! No fucking hurry!" The small feeling of relief I get upon seeing the roof, however, quickly evaporates with the sight of mercenaries aiming weapons at the defenceless, hanging target, one standing directly below me. Damn it, I can never catch a break around here!

It's quite a big drop, but I'd rather take my chances with that than hold on and drop down as a corpse. Plus the chump below me could cushion the fall, and I haven't used my knife in a while. The things I do in the name of survival…

Despite every instinct screaming at my brain what a terrible, moronic, boneheaded idea this is, I let go, reaching over my left shoulder with my right hand and drawing the knife as I drop, yelling as I go. The whole thing only takes about two seconds, then I crash into the mercs chest feet first, both of slamming into the ground as I drive down with the knife. I can't even tell if it hits the mark before I bounce off him, force of impact knocking the breath out of me as I roll to the side and hit a potted plant, which promptly deposits a load of soil onto my helmet.

I'm expecting to feel impacts against my shields as I look up, but mercenary attention seems to be focused on the shuttle and the exchange of fire coming from that, as Vortash lowers everyone else to a safe distance. The shields seem to have taken the impact from the rocket, so he should be okay to extract us as planned. I hope. We're going to need a lift out of here somehow…and I don't want us to arrange our own transport.

A small gurgling noise brings my attention back to the battlefield, and I see the handle of my knife sticking out of the chest of that merc I landed on, apparently a turian. I guess I deserve a bit of luck after all that…drawing my pistol, I plant my back against the small wall I'm next to, my head hidden by a row of some form of long grass as I peek between them. One merc ahead of me, aiming at the three figures now jumping onto the roof. It's not technically a stealth mission, but I may as well take the element of surprise.

I snatch up the knife with a sharp yank of my arm, moving lightly on the balls of my feet as I move as fast as I can towards the lone merc, keeping my body low as I sneak behind him. Human…so I can probably disable him with some CQC Ash taught me.

I rush up, kicking him hard in the back of the legs, and his knees involuntarily crumple beneath his weight. Before he can react to that, it's a simple matter of grabbing his left arm and bending my right arm over his elbow, then wrenching back with the hand I'm holding his arm in. There's a horrible snapping noise, the merc screaming out in pain just before I smash the back of my fist into his temple, knocking him out cold.

A shotgun blast sends a batarian mercenary flying off the roof in front of my eyes, and I look around to see Grundan pumping his weapon ready for his next victim. 'Victim' does sound awfully macabre, now that I think about it…but it fits his personality rather well.

I catch sight of a turian keeping Sidonis pressed down with assault rifle fire, lifting up my pistol and placing three shots into his armour, my attempted headshot flying wide. Should get his shields down after-

There's the sharp crack of a sniper rifle, and the turian slumps to the floor as blue blood explodes from his head. Damn, that dude got _melonised_. I vault over the small wall in front of me, regrouping with the other three as I we sweep our weapons around the area.

"We need to head inside before reinforcements arrive," Garrus says briskly. "Mirki'it will have heard all that, so they'll be on their way. There'll be mercs inside the house, too, so keep your guard up. Stick to the plan."

"Oh aye, the plan," I mutter. "Falling out of the shuttle wasn't part of that. Neither was the mercs having rocket launchers. Can Vortash even pick us up?"

Garrus shrugs. "He'll be fine. And if not, Mirki'it'll have some cars somewhere. I'm a good driver, I'll get us out of here." God, that makes me think about him piloting our cruiser back at C-Sec. I'd hoped I'd never have to experience that again, so I'm praying the shuttle can still run. "Besides, it's all worked out fine so far. You managed to get the drop on them."

"Literally," Sidonis chuckles.

We're practically next to the doors into the main building now, the top floor of the penthouse surrounded by windows on every wall, presumably so Mirki'it can enjoy the view of his lovely garden. Well, after the way it got shot up there, maybe not so lovely anymore. I'm not quite sure why we're taking the door when we could smash through the window, but we do it anyway. The top of floor of the apartment is open plan, with a few seats and tables. Yeah, this is just his conservatory. At least it's not got mercs in it, though I imagine the floor below us won't be the same in that respect.

"Only route down is the steps," Sidonis mutters. "They've got us funnelled in up here, we'll be ripped to shreds if we use them." Obviously, he's thinking the same thing to me. I, on the other hand, have an idea.

"I can tactical cloak," I point out. Something I keep forgetting, actually. "I'll go down, try and get into a good position to distract them while you all make your way down. There might not even be anyone there."

"When are we ever that lucky?" Garrus asks.

"True, true," I nod, reaching to my omni-tool as I ready myself at the top of the stairs. It doesn't last that long, so I'm gonna need to move quick…but not so quick that they hear me. Which is easier said than done. Like everything we do.

I press the relevant commands, moving as soon as my body turns transparent. Fortunately, in 2814, squeaky floorboards and stairs have virtually been phased out, meaning I don't need to be overly-cautious as I descend the flight of the stairs as fast as possible. They lead into another open plan room, clearly some kind of living room. As it turns out, it's a good thing I cloaked. If I hadn't, I would've been greeted by six mercenaries taking cover behind various bits of furniture, shotguns and automatic weapons pointed at the stairs.

And straight at me.

My heart skips a beat at the sight of them training weapons on me…then I remember that I'm actually invisible. Man, this is trippy as fuck, but no time to dwell on that! I creep past the defensive line, settling myself behind an upturned table as I materialise. Six of them, one of me, and I need to take their attention off the stairs. A regular grenade's too risky at this distance, but a concussion one could work. It'll hurt me, though…I could try stealth kills, then use that when necessary. Everyone seems to be so focused on the stairs, they won't see me coming behind them, and I'm fairly sure there's two in front of me that're out of everyone else's cone of vision.

I slip the knife out in my left hand, clutching the pistol tightly in my right as I advance on the guards, striking quickly. I stab the first guy in the soft area just above his hip, following it up with a quick jab into his neck with the knife as the other turns on me. I bring up the pistol into his stomach, which he promptly bats away with his right forearm, and smashes his elbow under my chin, knocking me back as he brings up his shotgun. Oh, _crap._

I lunge forward, kicking it under the barrel as hard as I can as his finger tightens on the trigger. The gun blasts a hole clean through the roof, dust pouring down onto our heads as I ignore Queensbury rules and kick the guy in the balls, wrestling the shotgun away from him and firing before I have the chance to consider what I'm doing.

My assailant pretty much turns into soup from the blast, the force of the recoil juddering through my entire frame as the gun knocks my arms back. Jesus Christ, these things are powerful! I probably pulled a muscle firing that…which doesn't seem to bother the other four mercs, who've swivelled around to point their weapons at me. I let off another shotgun blast, but it goes hopelessly wide of my intended target. A shotgun wielding mercenary, on the other hand, isn't so unfortunate.

The force of the shot hitting me knocks me clean off my feet, shields plummeting to 10% as my back impacts the floor. I manage to plant my hands behind me as I land, rolling back into a kip-up, as two more rounds hit. One gets blocked by the armour, the other tears across my left shoulder, making me hiss in pain as I heft the shotgun yet again, staring down the four guys still breathing.

One second later, there's only two of them left. A burst of assault rifle fire from the stairs removes two of them from the equation, and gives me enough time to aim the shotgun as I step forward and blow another away, turning to face the last merc, a turian. I pull the trigger, only getting an empty clicking noise for my trouble. The turian is evidently having a similar problem, reaching for another thermal clip. Only one way this is going to end.

I take two running steps, lifting the shotgun back and swinging it like a cricket bat. The plating gives way like jelly, dull thud reverberating around the room as he drops. How very Shaun of the Dead of me…

"Thanks, Garrus," I say, turning around to face the assault rifle's owner.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that last part," Sidonis chuckles, as Grundan and Garrus follow him down the stairs. Whoa, Sidonis saved my life? That's…kind of awkward. "I thought it'd be better if you didn't die. Garrus wouldn't have liked that."

"Nice to hear you care," I mutter back, getting a laugh as the medi-gel applies itself to the cut on the shoulder. Pro-tip; getting shot hurts. A lot. If it weren't for medi-gel, I'd have been out of this business a long, long time ago. I can hear voices below us as I drop the empty shotgun and draw my pistol again, the noise getting louder and louder. Obviously the mercs don't fancy waiting around this time…

"Come out, Archangel! Headpool!" I hear a flanging voice shout in a sing-song voice, obviously coming up the stairs. Damn it, what is it with mercs and that name?

"The mercs are probably trying to bait us, letting us know where they are so we don't risk going down, and their reinforcements can turn up," I say, barely able to contain the angry edge to my voice at them getting the alias wrong. Again. "I don't know how big this place is, though."

"Penthouses like this tend to be spread over three floors," Garrus explains. "And we've spent enough time being cautious. We came for Mirki'it, not a fight with half the Blue Suns. Ian, remember on Feros, what we did our grenades against the geth?"

I jog my memory back to it, trying to visualise that particular moment instead of all the creepy Thorian shit that I now associate with the word 'Feros'. "We used all those grenades on them at once. But I'd rather not bring this building down, so-"

"Concussion grenades," he chuckles. "We can disable everyone down there, then move in for Mirki'it."

"You scared, Archangel?" the turian voice shouts again. "Hiding up there? Why don't you come down here, I'm sure we'll be able to come to some kind of agreement!"

Sidonis nods next to me, as does Grundan. "It's a good plan."

"We've been desperately short of them this mission," I say, looking over at Garrus. "Sure, go for it. We all throw the grenades at once?"

"Then cover your ears straight away, because…this might hurt," Garrus says, grabbing a concussion grenade. "You ready? Three, two, one, throw." On 'throw', we all hurl our grenades at the same time, and I can't resist shouting something before they detonate.

"It's Deadpool, asshole!"

Even with my head facing away, and the helmet's external sensors turned off, I still feel the concussive pulse run through the building, as windows smash, alarms go off, and the lights flicker on and off wildly as a ringing sound fills my ears. Nowhere near as bad as getting it full on like when Saren dropped his, but still…ouch.

I reboot the helmet's sensors and HUD, still able to hear Garrus shouting for us to move over the ringing noise. I leap down the stairs, almost feeling bad for the group of five mercenaries rolling around on the floor, or passed out. They won't be getting up for a cool few hours, that's for sure…but that doesn't solve our current problem.

"Where the fuck's Mirki'it?" Sidonis asks, as we sweep through the rooms of the lower floor. There's nowhere else for him to have ran to…and he's not here. He's not bloody here. "Is he even home?"

"I don't know," Garrus gasps, placing a talon on his helmet in disbelief as we look around the place. It's a kitchen area, with an enormous TV screen stretching from the floor to the roof on one wall, tables and chairs in the middle, top of the range appliances scattered around the place. "Why would he post all these guards if he wasn't even here, though?"

"To try and kill us off, maybe?" Sidonis says. "Damn it, we didn't think this through! Now he knows for sure we're coming for him, and we look like idiots!" While he's busy ranting, though, Garrus and I look at each other, and even under the helmet I can tell we're thinking the same thing. Something doesn't add up here.

"Wasn't there a screen in the room above us?" I ask slowly, think the details through.

Sidonis stops pacing around to stare at me. "Yeah. So what?"

"People in positions of power like Mirki'it tend to be paranoid," Garrus mutters, his attention now firmly turned to the screen. "For good reason. You're always hearing about these panic rooms the rich and famous install in their homes." Panic room. Garrus, you genius. With those words, the turian draws his assault rifle, and fires a stream of bullets at the screen. It shatters, sparking and falling away to reveal an incredibly hefty door underneath.

"Wow," Sidonis says.

"He's going to be bricking himself in there," I chuckle, walking up to the door, and the keypad next to it. "I bet it's locked from the inside, though, this isn't going to work. Maybe there's another way in."

I feel someone push past my shoulder, as Grundan Krul stands in front of the panel with his omni-tool out and ready. "We don't need another way, human. Let someone who knows about tech do this."

"Come on, Grundan, these things are state of the art. You'd need a team of hackers working on this for a good few hours before-" The panel suddenly turns green, and the batarian hovers a hand over it. "Oh, wow, you actually did it."

"He's the tech expert for a reason," Garrus says, stepping forward next to me. "Alright. Let's see what we've got ourselves in there." I suck in a breath as Grundan stabs down on the door panel, and it slowly slides open…to reveal a batarian in casual gear, Predator pistol clutched in his hand shaking as he points it between the four of us, unable to settle on a target.

Holy crap. Thralog Mirki'it, in all his glory. He's not a big guy, only marginally taller than me, dressed in a pretty ugly crimson coloured top, with matching trousers, all four eyes narrowed in a look of fear, but also a look of hatred. Well, the feeling's mutual, pal. "Stay back, or I'll shoot!" he warns, but even typically deep batarian voice doesn't make the threat sound convincing.

All four of us step towards him. He fires twice, but they're harmlessly absorbed by our shields. Grundan reaches him first, tearing the pistol from his grasp and punching the Mirki'it hard in the face, holding him up by the collar as he hits him again. I kind of want to join in, but the way Grundan's suddenly gotten so angry…

"Stop!" Mirki'it shrieks, as Garrus steps forward and pulls Grundan back, and all four of us aim our weapons at him, Grundan physically shaking as he does so. "So, you must be Archangel."

"You've been enslaving people on this station," Garrus says slowly, deliberately ignoring the batarian's question. "You've been flooding the streets with red sand, funding the mercenaries, removing anyone who got in your way. But we've destroyed your operation, Mirki'it. And now, we're going to destroy you."

"You really think you can succeed?" Thralog sneers. "You and your band of washed up vigilantes? This is how Omega works, turian. If you don't like that, get off the station and leave us to what we do best."

"See, I'm trying to set an example," Garrus growls. "Walking away isn't going to do that. Believe me, I plan on leaving this place. But only after I've got rid of every person like you."

Mirki'it tries to laugh it off, but the terror in him is evident to everyone to see. "You're going to be here for a long time, then, Archangel. People like me are everywhere, wherever you go. You think I'm on the only batarian who does things like this?"

At that, Grundan suddenly steps forward again, punching Mirki'it down to the ground. "People like you ruin our species!" he screams, raining down blows. "You ruin the name of batarians everywhere!" Whoa, what the fuck? I've barely even heard Grundan form a full sentence before, and now he's doing this like it's all personal? I step forward to try and drag him away, but he throws me off with a surprisingly strong shove as he reaches down to his belt, pulling out a bag of something red. "Time for you to suffer like you made everyone else suffer. For what people like you do for our species." Before we can stop him, he's emptied the contents of the bag onto his hands…and presses them into Mirki'it's eyes.

Mirki'it begins to scream immediately, as all Sidonis, Garrus and I rush forward, throwing Grundan off him as Thralog flails around wildly, clawing at his eyes desperately, each movement becoming weaker than the last. Then I realise what was in the bag.

Grundan just made him overdose on red sand…by applying it directly to his eyes.

One particularly loud scream gets the better of me, as Mirki'it writhes in pain. A quick pull of the pistol trigger cuts him off mid-scream, and he slumps back against the wall lifelessly, pained expression still frozen on his face. After everything he did, part of me thinks he deserved it, but…damn.

"What was that?" Garrus demands, whirling on Grundan, who shrugs, not looking at all concerned by what happened.

"We came here to kill him, he's dead," the batarian replies. "That's all that matters." I open my mouth to ask something, about his motivation, but Sidonis cuts in before I can talk.

"We might need to talk about this later. Those reinforcements are going to get here any moment now, so we need to move." As curious as I am about Grundan now, he's right. Won't get any answers if we're all dead.

"This isn't over," Garrus warns him, as he reaches to his ear. "Vortash, we need extraction, right now. Pick us up at the entry point."

"_Roger." _The reply is typically brief, classic Vortash, but it's all we need to hear. Grundan's heading towards the stairs straight away, obviously wanting as little conversation as possible, with Sidonis following close behind him. I'm about to follow, when my eye falls onto a small OSD inside the panic room. No time to analyse it here, but it probably wouldn't hurt to take anyway…I snatch it up, then set off next to Garrus.

It only takes thirty seconds to break back into the outside air, Vortash already beginning his descent towards us, and I can't help grinning under the helmet. Even though I've got questions about why Grundan did what he did…Mirki'it's dead, his operation finished. We did it. Against arguably overwhelming odds, and emotional stress, we did it.

Vortash brings the shuttle down, opening both side doors. I give them a small glare as I hop in for how the mission started, then settle back into my seat as Vortash pulls away, just as the first few mercenary vehicles begin to show up around the building. Out in the nick of time, as usual…though it feels kind of weird that we're flying away from somewhere without it blowing up for a change. Ah well.

"We got him," Garrus says, and even the turian can't resist a smile as he removes his helmet, though he doesn't direct it at Grundan. "Finally." We all stare out the shuttle into the Omega night, and I sort of the get the weird feeling that we've achieved…something. The place doesn't look any different, but we've made it safer. People don't need to live in fear of Thralog Mirki'it anymore.

"Hey, since the mission's over, _now _can I have a drink when we get back to the base?" Sidonis asks, snapping me out of my trance.

Garrus and I exchange looks, then simultaneously facepalm.

**A/N: Finally, Mirki'it's dead! The little bastard blatantly had it coming, even if Grundan's method of doing the job were a little...extreme. Bit of a personal thing going on there, but we'll come to that later.**

**So, next up we'll have the closing chapter to the case (an aftermath, you know, that sort of thing). And that little OSD Ian picked up might have something interesting on it for next time, too...**

**Oh, and I either fractured/chipped a bone in/sprained my ankle yesterday (that's what athletics does to you), so I might have a little more time to write this week. Even though I'm feeling ill at the moment, so that'll probably counteract any extra time I get, haha.**

**One last thing; a story recommendation. Welcome to the Family by TheRev28 is fantastic, if you like this story, you'll love his, so go and give it a read.**

**And hey, the 600 review mark! Thanks to all of you once again, it's freakin' awesome.**

**Bye! **


	20. Ian vs The OSD

Chapter 20

Nelson: Let's Celebrate

"So there I was, toe to toe with six of the nastiest mercenaries you'll ever see," I say, grinning at the tired expression on Melanis' face, while the rest of the assembled squad members smile and chuckle at the story. "Muscles bulging from their armour, bristling with weaponry, all aimed at me. I think one of the turian mercs had his facepaint done in blood. Did you see that, Sidonis?"

"Definitely," Sidonis mutters, barely suppressing laughter as I spin this all out of proportion. When Mierin asked me how the mission went, he definitely asked the wrong person. A bit of artistic license makes things so much more exciting to tell, though.

"Slowly, all ten of them surrounded me." I lower my voice, leaning in closer to the group. "But do I surrender? No! I summon my highly trained killer instincts, and pounce! And when the dust clears, there's twenty less mercenaries in the world."

"Wow," Melanis says dryly. "You're amazing."

"I know, right?"

Garrus raises his bottle of Tupari. Which I'm feeling fairly envious of, as I glance over to the glass of water on the table nearby, but it's not like I can steal his drink when he's not looking. If Melanis didn't kill me for trying, the allergic reaction to dextro-amino drink would. "The way I remember it, Sidonis saved you from getting a shotgun round to your face."

"A mere bump on the road to victory," I shrug. "Sure, he might have helped a bit. I wasn't really looking. Too busy being heroic." I look around the group. "Obviously, this is one hundred percent true. I most definitely _didn't _get shotgunned in the chest, so Laet, you definitely don't have any armour waiting for repairs."

The turian groans from his seat, accompanied with laughter from everyone else. Ever since we got back from Mirki'it's apartment, pretty much the whole squad's been in high spirits. Even Melanis has managed to loosen up, as shown by her actually managing to laugh at one of my jokes. Grundan and Vortash disappeared to wherever it is they hang out…and Grundan in particular is in a bad mood. Stormed straight into the building, murder in his eyes. Overall, not looking too approachable, so I might have to hold my curiosity about what he did back. I don't think he'll ever appreciate me asking, but I'd rather he got a bit annoyed later than killing me now.

The only other person who's not present is Butler, on account of him being totally incapacitated. Montague merrily informed us that he'll be fine in the morning, and that he's not going to choke on his own vomit or anything nasty, but 'he'll feel like his head is being crushed by a krogan' when he wakes up. Which ought to be funny.

"I suspected your tale might be a fabrication," Erash says, prompting me to place a hand on my heart in mock-outrage.

"Are you calling me a liar, Erash?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Well, good call."

Erash's mandibles widen in amusement, as Weaver clears his throat. "So, you made certain Mirki'it was dead?"

"Nah, we left him for dead at the bottom of a cliff," I shrug, smiling widely at the annoyed look on Weaver's face. Considering we just broke into someone's house and killed them, I didn't think I'd be feeling this good. Then again, the person we got rid of oppressed and abused huge amounts of people for his own profit, so that explains it. "It'll be fine. People don't ever come back from that kind of thing, right?"

"He's dead," Garrus says quickly, before Weaver has time to get mad at me. "We made sure of it." No-one's brought up Grundan's actions, but that seems like it's something for later anyway. Not the best timing when everyone's in high spirits, to tell them Mirki'it died in horrifying agony from getting red sand rubbed in his eyes. Hell, I think it hurts when I get sun cream in my eyes, so God knows what he was feeling.

"Good," Melanis nods, sounding satisfied as she looks over at me, sly look on her face. Teeth bared a tiny amount, mandibles beginning to spread. "I hope people don't mind if I do a brief bit of teaching with Ian here? I'm supposed to be your trainer, after all." She looks pointedly at me, while everyone else smirks into their drinks. I'm not going to get much back-up here, am I?

"Isn't this supposed to be a party?" I sigh. "We just stopped a massive criminal. My first crime lord on Omega, I might add."

"For your first point, the real party finished with Butler," Melanis points out. As unfortunate as it is, she's right. There's more of a laidback atmosphere now, with everyone drinking within their limits. Which gives her an excuse to pull this stunt. "As for your second, that's good for you. I've got a question, though."

I shift in my seat, settling back and fixing her with a calm stare, silently goading her. If she wants to verbally spar, let's go for it. Melanis has had an alcoholic drink, so I should be at an advantage… "Go ahead."

"What possessed you to attack six mercenaries, by yourself, with a handgun?" I can hear Montague quietly cough into his drink with laughter, and some nods from around the circle.

"That's not a bad question," I admit. "Well, I couldn't grenade them from that range, since it could've taken the roof down on us-"

"Unlikely, but I suppose it's a concern," Melanis interrupts. "You had concussion grenades, though."

"I didn't want to flashbang myself?" The look she gives me suggests that's not going to fly. "I'm serious!"

"Alright," she chuckles. "We can work on better tactics during training, anyway."

What? "I'm not done with training? For my first mission, I'd say this constitutes to a good success."

"You've never received formal infiltration training before, from what Garrus tells me," Melanis replies calmly, obviously enjoying herself as my demeanour gets progressively more furious. "It takes years in the turian military to get to a high standard. You might have done well, but you need this."

"I'm at a high standard! Did you _see _me in Mirki'it's warehouse?"

"I'll admit, you have a talent for improvising. But relying on luck after three years doing field work isn't a good idea," she says. Well, that's my hopes of a lie-in some days shot to hell. Instead, I get a female turian kicking my ass for hours on end. Yay. Her expression does look teasing, though, so she might be exaggerating. But I doubt it. "It'll be fun."

I chuckle sarcastically. "Uh-huh. Fun. That wasn't the first word that sprung to my mind. Unless I can have a Tupari to go along with it-"

"No," everyone around the table choruses at once. God fucking dammit!

"Training isn't going to do you any harm," Laet says, getting up and walking behind where I'm sitting, then he suddenly pinches part of my arm with a talon. "Wow, definitely not. No more doughnuts for you."

"Fuck off," I mutter, light-heartedly enough for him to laugh. "It's not even fair. Half the squad are turian, and I don't think you guys can even get fat."

"Our metabolisms adapt when they need to," Erash explains. "So no, we can't. Arguably, it shows our species is more adapted than yours." He flashes me a smile at my pissed off look. "Arguably."

"Humans have a ton of advantages over turians," I protest. "Like…uh…"

"We're taller," Laet says, leaning on the edge of a sofa next to Montague.

"Being smaller can be useful, though," I counter. "For stealth."

Melanis laughs from her seat. "If you're supposed to be an example of that…" It's actually kind of frustrating that I legitimately can't think of any physical advantage we have. They're faster and stronger, everything like that. Hmm…maybe physical stuff isn't going to win the argument.

"We've got better writers, artists, all that stuff," I say. "Poets, too."

"Since when did you like poetry?" Garrus asks me, smiling.

I shrug. "I don't, I'm just clutching at straws here. Besides, you're not necessarily better at everything. There's natural advantages, but I reckon I could take a turian in a fight."

"Want to try it?" The look on Melanis' face as she asks suggests she's being serious.

"Not particularly." I can still remember Ash innocently suggesting a spar…and the disaster that was. Best not to push my luck, I think. "When I said 'a turian', I wasn't really thinking of you."

"I'm too strong?"

"No, I legitimately think you'd try to kill me, and I don't want to take the risk."

"That sounds about right…" Mierin says quietly, then his eyes widen when Melanis turns her glare onto him. "I'm joking, I'm joking!"

The female turian laughs, turning her attention back onto me. "You're annoying, but not worth killing. It's more entertaining to have you alive, and watch you screw up."

"Thanks." I reply, raising both eyebrows in an unimpressed expression. It's not the ideal comment, but Melanis is obviously just messing with me, and it's cool that she's finally loosening up towards me. Sure, we're still at each other's throats, but it's in a somewhat friendly way. At least, for now. "I'm seeing the start of a beautiful relationship blooming here, you know?"

"You're too good for her," Laet says in my ear, chuckling as Melanis growls at him. "I'm going to head to the armoury, then, see what's going on with the everything you've left for me. I don't get paid enough for this. And by that, I mean I don't get paid at all. Garrus."

"I paid for that drink you've got," Garrus replies.

"That probably constitutes to 0.1 percent of my usual bill," Laet says sardonically. "So thanks. I'm alright with payments in instalments, but this is pushing it."

Montague suddenly rises to his feet too. "I might accompany Laet, actually. He shouldn't have to work by himself." There's a lull in the conversation with Melanis…and I'm done with our verbal sparring for tonight. Maybe some other time. To be honest, her offer of proper sparring _does_ sound kind of tempting if I was able to beat her, but I'll need to try and assess her combat prowess before then. It'd finally give me some ammunition to fire back at her with. As for getting out of the conversation, I suddenly remember the OSD I stored in the back pocket of my jeans after getting out of the armour. Still need to check that, and now would be perfect…

"Laet, does your room have a terminal?" I ask, beginning to rise out of the seat.

"Yeah." He nods, looking bemused. "Why?"

"I got an OSD from Mirki'it's panic room," I explain, getting it out of my pocket for affect. "To be honest, I'm canny curious what's on it."

Laet exchanges a quick look with Montague, who nods at him. "And you need to use my terminal. Come on, then." The turian almost looks annoyed, though he disguises the expression well. Huh. Wonder's what got into him.

"Well, this has been great," I say to the rest of the squad, putting my water down on the table and looking at Melanis. "I know Garrus is supposed to do all the motivational shit, but…uh, good job. On taking Mirki'it down. You know."

"There's a reason he does the 'motivational shit', obviously," Weaver mutters from next to me. From the look on Melanis' face, he took the words right out of her mouth.

"Just putting it out there," I smile. "See you all later. Mel, I'll see you in the morning for training." I'm hoping she shrugs it off and tells me I've earned a break, but it doesn't come as a huge shock when she nods and turns back to her drink. She obviously knew that's what I was going for, though, because of the satisfied look on her face. It's unlucky that she decided to pick on me as soon as we met, but…I dunno. I kind of enjoy it.

"So, the mission all went to plan this time?" Montague asks, as the three of us walk into the armoury.

"The objectives didn't change halfway through it this time, if that's what you mean," I say, thinking back to the factory. Which, in hindsight, has to be up there with the Battle of the Citadel on 'top stressful experiences of my life'. And there's a lot of contenders on that list, the vast majority of which are from the past three years. Shiara's fault, damn it. "The shuttle almost got blown up, and I almost got turned into goo from falling out of it, but other than that it's all good."

"And Mirki'it?" This time it's Laet asking, as I head to the terminal and boot it up, inserting the OSD. "What was he like?"

"Scared," I say, dropping down a menu of archives on the terminal and scrolling to the external drive. "Typical big thug. He's fine talking smack and acting all confident when he's got goons backing him up, but can't do shit when they've got to rely on themselves."

"Did he say anything?"

"Told us we wouldn't last if we killed him, blah blah blah, the usual melodramatic crap," I shrug, then curse quietly. Fuck, the OSD's encrypted…but from the looks of things, someone's installed the relevant software on this computer to break through it. I doubt Mirki'it has anything too sophisticated protecting his files, so the algorithm on the decryption software should get it done quick. "He didn't exactly get time to talk much."

Montague looks surprised. "You killed him before he could finish talking? That seems a little…unnecessary." Ugh, I'm not going to be explain this without saying what Grundan did. Still, they'll find out eventually, so may as well just get it out of the way.

"Tell it to Grundan," I mutter. "He had some red sand on him when we went into the mission. Put it on his hands, and rubbed it into Mirki'it's eyes. He was overdosing when I shot him."

"Damn," Laet says, looking a bit disgusted by the news. "Any idea why he did it?"

"Hey, if you want to go and ask him, be my guest," I reply, turning away from the terminal to look at them. "If I had to guess, it's something personal. He kept screaming about people like Mirki'it 'ruining the batarian name'."

"It's true," Montague points out. "Typically, batarians are seen as scum by other races. Perhaps not a fair assumption, and not one I agree with, but they go to little effort to dispel it. Grundan's efforts here could be to show his species isn't as bad as people think."

Laet shakes his head. "I don't think any of us are in this for the fame. It's a side-effect, and it's useful for getting our reputation around, but Omega's the last place you'd go to try and start a campaign to change how people view batarians."

"Maybe he does it because he's mental, I dunno. Garrus'll deal with it. Shepard would have, so he will too," I explain.

"He's inspired by Commander Shepard?" Montague asks. "I've always wondered…"

I dunno how much Garrus has told them about him and Shepard, and I definitely don't want to be the one to break the news that they're lovers, so I'm a bit evasive. "They were really close. He'd always respected her, listened to what she had to say. I can't think of a better teacher in the galaxy, to be honest. If he's taking after her, we're in good hands. I'm still alive, anyway, so she must have done something special for that to happen."

Apart from Ash on Virmire…we all made it, didn't we? Wrex, Kaidan, Liara, Tali…

Tali.

Fuck. With everything that's happened, I haven't even thought about calling her, sending a message…we've barely been in contact after the spaceport incident anyway, but I can't believe I completely forgot about her. Then again, she did leave me standing in a spaceport like an idiot, so maybe it's not a big shock I've not thought about her.

I should call her. She'll have had time to set up a comm. channel on the Flotilla, and I've got her contact details on my omni-tool. I'm not even sure what to say if I call…shit, being in the same room as Montague and Laet probably isn't the best place to make the call, either.

"I just remembered something," I say vaguely. "Is it alright to make outgoing calls from here? There aren't super-secret spy satellites orbiting this place?"

"I hope not," Montague replies. "The mercs do not know we're here, so yes, you can make a call."

"Just don't say 'Archangel's hideout' for the address if you're ordering in food," Laet points out. "That kind of gives the game away. If the files decrypt, I'll take a look at them for you. Actually, come back in an hour, I'll have it done then."

I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "You're sure? I can look at them myself, you know, it's no bother."

"You killed Mirki'it," Montague says. "We can do a favour for you. We will only need an hour." Wow, they both seem awfully keen to get rid of me. I don't feel like rooting Mirki'it's files, though, and it gives me time to talk to Tali. So I guess we all win?

"Alright," I nod. "Thanks, guys."

"Don't mention it," Laet replies quickly. "Fifty credits says it's porn, anyway." I roll my eyes at him, laughing as I excuse myself and head out the door. The laughter dies almost as soon as the door closes, as I open the contact list on my omni-tool and scroll down to Tali's name on the contact list. It'll have to be a voice call, to make it even more awkward…I'll have to see if we can get something for video, or full body projection. Provided Tali's ship has something similar.

I thought I'd be jumping at the chance to call her, but all I can do is freak out about what to say. The way we left was awkward (and, despite myself, I'm still feeling some resentment towards her for that), it's been months since we properly talked, and…well, outside of the Normandy, it feels like something's missing.

Still, it'll be good to hear from her again. Even though I still haven't told her about Rael and the trial…which I really, really need to do, so she can make sure her father survives. She'd never forgive me if he died, and given my knowledge, I'm not sure I'd be able to forgive myself.

I look up, realising my slow walk while I was engrossed in thought has virtually taken me out of the house and onto the bridge outside. I'd rather make the call here, away from the others, so that's rather nice. God, I hate awkward phone conversations. This would be so much easier face to face…but I shouldn't be this worried.

And I should've cared earlier, too. A few months ago I thought we were in love, then the spaceport completely knocked me off my stride. She might not want to talk to me after that, just focus her attention on the Flotilla, rather than the guy who's supposed to be her boyfriend…

Fuck it, I'm winding myself up. I sigh, leaning on the side of the bridge and staring out as I scroll down to her name on the contact list. I hesitate for a few seconds, then press the 'call' button on my omni-tool, feeling butterflies in my stomach as it begins ringing. Man, this is gonna be horrible if there's some kind of time difference on the Flotilla, or if it goes to answer…

I still remember finding that a surprise, that the future has voicemail. Still, it's not like there's a better system.

That's the seventh ring now. Crap, she might have seen it's me, and not pick up. Leaving a voicemail is going to be so horribly awkward too, so I'll give it a few rings more then hang up-

"_Hello?_" a familiar voice asks, sounding surprised. And tired. _"Ian? Is that you?"_

"Nice to hear I'm still on your contact list," I reply, unable to help a small grin. "Yeah, it's me. How're you doing?"

"_Good, good," _she replies quickly, and from the sound of the background noise she's moving around. _"Hold on, let me turn on a light…"_

Balls, there _is _a time difference. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"_No," _she says, giving an unconvincing laugh._ "Of course not."_

"That's what everyone says when they wake up to a phonecall," I reply. "Sorry. I forgot we'd have some kind of time difference."

"_It's fine. __I…Keelah, it's nice hearing from you again." _I smile to myself at that. _"I haven't talked to any of the old crew for so long. Finding time to talk around the Flotilla is hard."_

I chuckle lightly. "Good thing I called when you were asleep, then."

"_Yeah. __Everyone else on the ship might not have appreciated it so much."_

Ah, space on the Flotilla is pretty rare, isn't it? So there'll definitely be shared sleeping quarters. I still remember some of Mass Effect: Ascension, anyway. "Crap. You're not still in there, are you?"

"_I've moved out of the sleeping quarters, so don't worry," _she replies, sounding amused at my evident alarm. _"What time is it on the Citadel?" _Oh yeah, she doesn't even know I've moved to Omega, does she? Fucking hell, we _really _didn't stay in contact…

"Your guess is about as good as mine," I shrug, despite the fact she can't see my body movement. "I'm on Omega. It's early morning here, though."

"_Omega?__" _Tali sounds alarmed at that._ " What are you doing there?"_

"Helping Garrus," I reply, grinning at how panicked she sounds. "C-Sec stopped agreeing with us, and he's started doing vigilante work. The place is a hell-hole, but we're cleaning it up."

"_We?"_

"He managed to pull a squad together," I explain. "If I told you anything else, I'd have to kill you."

"_This isn't funny!" _Tali hisses back, though I swear she giggles a bit at my last line. _"Omega is one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy!"_

"Really?" I ask idly. "You learn something new every day-"

The amused edge from her voice drops as she starts talking again. _"I'm serious, Ian. I thought you were going to lie low for two years? Instead of finding trouble?"_

"Well, sometimes things don't exactly work the way we plan," I mutter, hint of resentment creeping into my voice before I can stop myself. Damn it, why did I say that? "Besides, trouble usually finds me. It's nice to have it the other way around for a change." Silence on the other end of the line. "Tali, don't worry about me. You know I can handle myself, and the people here need our help. Plus someone has to look out for Garrus."

"_Fine," _she sighs. For some reason, she sounds…older. Not in a bad way, but I was still expecting her to be like she used to be. Then again, reuniting with your own species and completing the passage into adulthood probably has a good way of maturing you. _"At least be careful. And don't try anything stupid with that knife." _I think I might save the story about the mission to Mirki'it's penthouse, then…_ "After we lost Shepard…I don't want to hear about another friend going the same way.."_

"I'll be fine," I say reassuringly, even if her choice of phrase is bugging me. 'Friend', huh… "The squad's strong, and the fighting was more difficult with Shepard." Well, that's a slight lie, but telling her that I'm in constant danger isn't going to calm the situation any time soon. "The merc groups run this place, but they're not prepared for opposition. Didn't expect anyone to fight back against what they're doing here."

"_If the stories I hear about Omega are true, I can guess what they're doing," _Tali comments dryly.

"Whatever stories you've heard, it's probably worse," I reply. "We're cleaning up, though, one step at a time. Omega needs heroes more than anything. It gives people hope."

Tali laughs. _"And they got you instead." _

"Ouch," I say, smiling. "Harsh. Anyway, vigilante justice is going pretty good where I am. How's the Flotilla?"

"_Amazing." _A sudden enthusiasm jumps into her voice as she starts talking. _"After being gone for so long…I mean, being among my own people again, seeing everyone I left behind when I went on my pilgrimage." _A small part of me is tempted to say 'I know what being left behind feels like', but I reign myself in. _"And I'm serving on the crew of the Neema. It's my ship. So, it's not Tali'Zorah nar Rayaa anymore, it's-"_

"vas Neema," I say. "I know. So, has anything special happened on there?"

There's a small pause. _"It's all quarian things. Nothing interesting for someone on the outside, anyway." _

"Try me," I say playfully.

"_Really, __you wouldn't care." _

Huh. Okay then…there's an awkward silence, as I weigh up what to say next. She'll be tired, and I know I am too, hence conversation isn't flowing too well. "If you're sure," I reply, feeling a bit peeved. "Sorry about not calling earlier, I've…had a hell of a lot going on. Drug lords, evil mercenary plans, all that stuff."

"_I'm sorry about that too." _She does sound genuinely regretful about that. _"I've been spending a lot of time helping around here, doing a lot of thinking, and-" _There's a sudden pause, as I hear another voice say something in the distance, and Tali replies with someone I don't quite understand. "_I need to go, Ian, some bosh'tet is complaining about me waking people up."_

"Oh," I say, taken aback. I still haven't told her about Rael, the trial, anything! "Sorry about getting you into trouble."

"_I'll deal with it. __Don't apologise. I really need to go, Ian, I'm sorry. We can talk later." _Guess I don't really have a choice, then…

"Alright. I'll call you later, then." Damn, I still need to tell her about the trial… "Tali, can you hold on for five-" The line goes dead halfway the sentence, cutting me off as I stare stupidly at the omni-tool. "Minutes. I guess not."

Well. That was oddly unsatisfying. She hung up on me…and basically all I succeeded in was getting her in trouble with her ship mates. The romance isn't exactly going crazy over here.

Still, I can't be too surprised, given that I woke her up, and I just got back from killing someone. Shit, now that I think of it like that, this was a terrible idea, wasn't it? No wonder things didn't go to plan!

Shaking my head, I step back into the house, moving towards Laet's room again. There's still time to tell her about the trial…and to be honest, it wouldn't have been the best time to do it then either. Popping up after six months time to tell her she could be exiled would've been insensitive. Though Tali would know all about being insensitive, given that she fobbed me off about the Flotilla…

Or she genuinely thought I wouldn't be interested. Well, it doesn't matter. She said we could talk later, but I don't know if that means she's going to call me. I can message her to test the water, anyway, and see if there's any way to make a video call.

I tap absent-mindedly at the door panel to Laet's room, taking a few seconds to twig onto the fact it's not opening. A quick look down shows the panel coloured red. The fuck? He locked the door? Now I've got to hang around for about forty minutes with the conversation with Tali stuck in my head!

Dammit!

##########

**Forty minutes later…**

"Oh, _now _it's open," I mutter to myself, walking into Laet's armoury room with a frown. Some of the other squad members were in the kitchen, but I didn't fancy going back to have Melanis rip the piss out of me, hence hanging around bored in the dormitory for a bit. I did start reading one of Laet's books, though it didn't leave much of a lasting impression, since I don't even remember the title. Some crap about vampires and an emo girl living in some place in Washington, and I think the town was named after some piece of cutlery. It was under the 'abandoned' list on Erash's datapad, and I think I can see why. "Laet? Why'd you lock the door when I was here forty minutes ago?"

"Montague and I got more drinks while the files were decrypting," he explains casually, both the turian and the drell looking over at me from their seats by the terminal. "You must have missed us by a few minutes."

"Of course I did," I sigh, stepping forward and leaning on the back of Montague's chair to look at the terminal screen, with all the files laid out in small thumbnails. "So, did anything come up?"

"Well, first of all, I was right about the porn," Laet says, sounding a bit too satisfied as he drags the cursor to one folder, which is suspiciously unlabelled. "Want to see?"

"That'd better be a joke," I reply quickly, making Laet and Montague both crack up laughing as he scrolls away. For a drell, Montague has such an immature sense of humour…though I've come to expect it from Laet.

"It's not a joke in the sense the files are there," Montague chuckles. "But we do not need to see them more than once."

"Bet that was a nasty surprise," I comment.

Laet rolls his beady eyes. "You've got that right. Batarians are ugly…but that's probably not what you wanted to know, right?"

"I already knew it, so yeah," I say. "Did you find anything, you know, useful?"

"Not explicitly." Again, Montague takes over the serious explanation. "Accounting information, security details, all irrelevant now. It might have been worth someone before he died, but now his operation's been destroyed, it's useless."

Damn. I really thought it'd have something cool on it, too. "Waste of time then? Sorry to have bothered you two."

"Well, not a total waste," Laet interjects. "There's a few emails he saved onto here."

"It _is_ a waste," Montague says firmly, shaking his head. "Laet thinks he's managed to dig up a conspiracy theory." Whoa, conspiracy? Now we're talking! At the very least, it'll be funny to hear Laet explain this.

"It doesn't hurt to look," I shrug. "Go on, show me." Montague sighs derisively as Laet runs through the directory…and opens up an email to the screen. Alright, let's have a look at this…

_Mirki'it_

_The monitoring of recent activity on Omega's red sand market has shown your output levels dropping in the wake of guerrilla attacks on spaceports around the area, and saboteurs targeting your shipments. While we appreciate circumstances may have become difficult for you, we've also seen that your payments to the security firms and mercenary groups are being scaled back as well._

_We must discourage you from taking this action. Lowering the scale of your security operation simply invites these terrorists to take more action against you. Any further damage your operation receives further damages our investment in you, and we are particularly keen to ensure our investments remain protected during this time. Omega continues to grow, and we wish to grow with it. _

_Therefore, it is in both our interests if you continue your efforts to subdue the perpetrators of this action against you. This can only be achieved through continued mercenary force. It would be unfortunate to have to withdraw our support from you, but it is the position we face. In this time of market expansion, the weak will only be left behind. Prove you are not weak. _

_I realise the tone of this message is brusque, but only because we wish to leave you with no doubt. Now that your operation is under attack, no doubt other competitors in the red sand market will be stepping up their operations, and we must retaliate in kind. We expect to hear of your contracts with mercenary groups being upheld shortly._

_Get this done, Thralog. We cannot invest in failure._

_Umbra_

"Now," Laet says, as I finish reading, "are you telling me that's _not _some crazy conspiracy shit? Someone was obviously leaning on Mirki'it from the outside!"

"These operations always have investors," Montague explains calmly. "It's an illegal business, but it makes an enormous amount of money. Legitimate business practices often carry over to the black market."

"He's right," I admit. "I saw plenty of that with C-Sec. Still…it does sound odd."

Montague gives me a surprised look. "Are you really buying into this?"

"There's just something about the way it's phrased," I shrug. "Even for an investor, it seems canny aggressive. Like this guy really owned Mirki'it."

"Or guys," Laet points out. "It keeps referring to 'we'."

"The writer could be doing that for dramatic effect," Montague says. "So Mirki'it had an investor. There'll be plenty more of them around here, and this isn't enough to go off for anything."

"That's true as well," I say. "Something about this is definitely rubbing me up the wrong way, but there's nothing we can do." I take a quick skim through it again, but for some reason 'umbra' seems familiar… "The name they used to sign off. I've heard it before."

Laet seizes on this immediately? "Who is it? Some kind of super-corporation you fought on the Citadel?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You're way, way too enthusiastic about this."

"Sorry."

"It's Latin," I say. "I don't remember much of that language from what I studied, but umbra was one of the easier words."

"What's Latin?" Laet asks.

"An ancient human language," Montague explains, before I can get a word in. Wow, that's impressive that he knows. Guess it must come with him being the medic…if he's versed in treating different species, he must have come across at least some Latin with human medical terms. "Though I don't think it's used anywhere. A dead language, correct?"

"Couldn't have put it better myself," I nod.

Laet looks even more confused now. "But why would you study a dead language? If no-one speaks it, what's the point?"

I look blankly at him for a few seconds, unable to come up with a good answer. "Shut up," I finally settle on. "God, you've totally ruined my dramatic reveal now…" I catch Montague staring at me, large black eyes burning into mine a touch impatiently. "Fine, it means 'shadow' in Latin. You happy?"

"Whoever wrote this is someone with a power delusion," Montague mutters, looking back to the screen. "That is a ridiculous name."

"I think we should take it up with Garrus," Laet says firmly. For fuck's sake…I still haven't slept since the mission in the red sand factory, and I _really _don't want to get into this debate right now.

"There's nothing to take up with him," I yawn. "Leave it for now." The yawn suddenly makes me realise just how tired I am, and I can physically feel my eyelids droop as Montague gives me a concerned look.

"Are you alright, Ian? You look exhausted."

"And I feel it too," I nod. "I'm going to hit the hay." Montague and Laet give me blank expressions. "Crash out." Montague looks borderline concerned at that. "Get some sleep."

"Ah," both of them say at the same time.

I chuckle to myself, heading for the door. It's fun having other species get confused at human sayings…too bad Garrus is past that stage, since he knows all of them after three years with me. "I'll see you in the morning."

"In the afternoon," Laet corrects me. "You're training with Melanis in the morning." Fuck, he's right…man, I'm going to get practically no sleep. Still, it could be worse. I'd rather wake up feeling tired than wake up feeling like Butler will in a few hours.

"Thanks for reminding me," I sigh, as Laet laughs. "Later." I guess he and Montague are going to argue about that 'conspiracy' a bit more…

It doesn't take long to get back to the dormitory, and it's started to fill up a bit since I left. Grundan's on his bed, so I avoid looking at that bunk. Weaver's also in bed, and I can see Erash's face illuminated by the datapad as I walk quietly to the bunk, getting ready to climb on top.

"You wouldn't happen to know why my bookmark was set to _Twilight, _would you?" Erash asks me calmly. "I thought I had been lucky enough to erase it from my memory, but it appears to have come back to haunt me."

"No idea," I say quickly, scrambling up to the bed and laying my head down on the pillow. My muscles feel like they're loosening off as soon as I lie down, making me smile as I close my eyes.

Sure, taking down a crimelord might not make a huge dent on Omega. But right now, our reputation around here will be growing even as I close my eyes. And even a small dent is going to help people. Everyone Mirki'it screwed over, oppressed, exploited, attacked, they're free now. The station's a long way from cured. Frankly, I don't think we'll ever truly cure it.

But we're helping. At the end of the day, I guess that's what matters.

I feel fatigue washing over me, and I don't even try to fight it as my senses slowly slip away, satisfied smile still on my face as I fall asleep.

**A/N: **** Case one, finished! And it only took me just over the word count of MtM1 to do it! I can't believe that, haha…**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the whole operation against Mirki'it, and that the cast is developing nicely. I really enjoy writing all this 'off-canon' stuff (or at least having a lot of artistic license to play with), so I hope you're enjoying it too.**

**Next chapter, another flashforwa****rd, and then the next campaign. Anyone who's looked at the LotSB dossier closely will realise there's one squad member missing…next case, that might get addressed. And by 'might', I mean 'it blatantly will'.**

**I'll try and update Case Zero before then, though. ****Which shouldn't take too long, so don't worry about it if you're just reading this story. Though you should read Case Zero. Obviously. Since I write it.**

**Thanks for your continued support, and I'll see you next chapter!**


	21. Ian vs The Railing

Chapter 21

The Wombats: Tokyo (Vampires and Wolves)

**A/N: Shout-out to Myetel [www . fanfiction u/2720337/Myetel (remove the spaces)] and her stories Spirit of Redemption and Spirit of Truth, for helping me out with turian knowledge and language. They're incredible reads, especially if you're interested in turian culture (the stuff she's written about it is incredible).**

**October 16th, 2185  
9:37pm, Omega time  
Archangel's hideout**

"Come on, buddy," I mutter under my breath, staring down the scope at the human freelancer I know is crouched behind a crate on the bridge. I almost feel for the guy. He's the last one left in the wave that just got sent at us, about ten freelancers at once. The corpses of the other nine are spread out around him, and he's still got at least a thirty metre run to the house. Where he'd have to take both Garrus and I on with a submachine gun. No wonder he's hiding. All of us know he's screwed.

He signed up for this, though. If you want to take mercenary money to kill the two people left fighting for good in this place, then you'd best be prepared for the consequences. If these roles were reversed, like hell would he be showing us mercy.

I sigh, calmly waiting for him to make some kind of move. In all likelihood, he signed up on impulse. With the mercenaries running a recruitment station in Omega, it's not a huge surprise to see all these young freelancers. Night on the town with the lads, knocking back the drinks, then they feel like they've got something to prove. Hunting down the big, bad Archangel and Deadpool. Testosterone and peer pressure gets the better of them, and once one of the group's signed up, well, the rest are inclined to follow. Kill two people with your mates, and get paid for it. On Omega, that's the perfect night.

They weren't expecting this. Everyone thinks they've got the capacity to be some kind of action hero. They're wrong. I always did, and I was wrong too. I got lucky to get this far, to be dropped on the Citadel and meet Garrus, lucky to survive long enough to let the experts train me up. I could've just as easily been one of these people, cowering behind cover and facing up to the reality they've bitten off far, far more than they can chew.

The freelancer still hasn't emerged. Alright…if he gets up and runs away from us, I won't shoot him. I don't know if the mercenaries will, but I'm still prepared to give him a chance. It's a harsh life lesson for him, but if he wants to take it then I'm not going to stop him-

With a sudden scream that echoes around the area, the freelancer bursts out of cover and charges towards the house, firing wild bursts with the submachine gun that go horribly wide. I squeeze the trigger once, unable to help feeling regret as he goes down and I pull back the bolt on the rifle, left side of his head torn asunder by the sniper round. "Idiot," I say quietly.

"Hey, I didn't take the shot because I thought you had him," Garrus snaps. "Don't call me that."

"Not you," I say, quietly chuckling at the genuine anger in Garrus' voice. Jesus Christ, we're wound tight. "That freelancer. I want to kill Tarak, Garm and the rest just for roping them into this. It should at least be between us and the mercenaries, not every Tom, Dick and Harry looking for some easy credits."

"I don't think the mercenaries would really go for an honourable fight," Garrus replies, looking out over the bridge. "Those bastards probably don't know what one is." He pauses for a moment, then looks at me, cocking his head to the side a fraction. "Who are Tom, Dick and Harry?"

"It's a human expression, basically means 'everyone'." I grin under the helmet. "Four years, and you're still learning human expressions."

"Four years, and they still never cease to amaze me," the turian mutters. "That doesn't even make sense."

I shrug. "Hey, I didn't come up with it. Besides, turians don't seem to have any expressions at all."

"We do have expressions. Like…'they're angrier than an acrocanth in mating season.' Things like that."

"The fuck is an acrocanth?"

"See, this is why I don't use them," Garrus sighs. "Because things like this happen. An acrocanth...it's a predator on Palaven, very rare. Two-legged, long spines on its neck and back, about thirty-six feet tall."

I raise an eyebrow, even though Garrus can't see it. "You've got things like that running around on Palaven?"

"I told you, they're rare. And they stay away from settlements," he says. "We could do with one here, though. It'd tear the mercenaries apart."

"Then turn on us," I point out, scoping down the bridge again. There's usually a gap in between waves, but still, it's nice to keep on our toes. Stops me getting complacent. And stops me relaxing. As soon as the adrenaline hit I'm on dies, I'm probably going to fall asleep straight away. "It'd be cool to see, though. Another word to add to my turian vocabulary."

"What's that now? Three words?"

I laugh quietly. "At least five, I'll have you know. Melanis taught me a few words as well." The smile on my face from laughing suddenly changes to a frown as I think about the female turian, and everyone else. "I never thought I'd miss her."

"You never do until they're gone," Garrus says. I guess he's probably talking about Shepard there… "But you can't dwell on it. Not now, anyway. I don't want to sound insensitive, but we've got bigger problems."

"Like surviving. I know." I drop the rifle down again, resting the stock just above the crook of my arm. "This is all Umbra's fault, anyway."

Garrus nods, tinge of regret in his voice as he talks. "Yeah. From that OSD to this…"

"Tell me about it," I sigh, then suddenly jump at the sound of my stomach growling. "Shit, I haven't eaten in a while…" There's another faint growling noise, but this time not from me. "Was that you?"

"No." Both of us pause, then after a few seconds, yet another growl.

"Come on, that was totally you."

"Ian, I'm not making that noise."

"Well, if it's not you, then…" I bring my sniper rifle up again, pointing down the bridge. The sight I see makes my blood run cold. "Oh, you've got to be shitting me."

"VARREN!"

###########

**November 27th, 2184  
7:36pm, Omega time  
Eclipse spaceport**

"So much for gentle security," I gasp, sliding the last two metres into cover on my knees as I press my back against the walkway next to Melanis. "Here I was thinking this deal was supposed to be inconspicuous."

"Shut up," the female turian hisses back at me. "We got past them, didn't we?"

I glance cautiously over my shoulder, hoping none of the several guards we managed to slip past aren't coming up behind us. "Just about. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if _someone_hadn't decided to try taking the lead."

"Hey, it was a good idea at the time, Shaw," Butler shoots back indignantly. "I didnae see you come up with anything better."

"That's because stealth is about patience, Butler, not charging at the first opening," I sigh. "Those tactics didn't serve you too well when those asari came over to us in Afterlife, did they?"

If I could see his face behind the helmet, I'm at least 95% certain Butler would be scowling. "I wasnae trying _anything _with them. Mierin had a good crack at it, but I'm married."

"That's not stopped people before." Butler's hands tighten on his shotgun. "I'm joking, Jesus…"

"You do remember where you are?" Melanis asks tetchily. "Maybe the spaceport with the vitally important information trade-over and armed mercenaries isn't the best place to start joking around?"

"Slave-driver," I mutter, grinning under my helmet as I reach for the sniper rifle. "We should've tried to subdue the guards back there. It's going to make things harder once things all go south." I pull back the bolt on the rifle for effect. Ooh, feels so badass…

"Too risky," Garrus says, shaking his head. "This would all have been over if they'd seen us. We're just going to have to be ready for a big fight once we try leaving here. That's what Butler and I are for. I'd hate for it to have been a wasted trip for us."

The Scot chuckles lightly under his breath. "My thoughts exactly."

"Don't get too jumpy, mate, we've still got to wait for the ship to show up," I say. "Now we play the waiting game. Melanis, fancy some I-Spy?"

"No. Never ask me that again."

I roll my eyes, grateful for the fact she can't see my expression, as I settle into a more comfortable position. It's been about two months since we killed Mirki'it, and Omega's finally making the transition between 'creepy dangerous criminal asteroid' to 'home'. It's a fucked up home, I'll be honest, but it's better than nothing. Missions I previously balked at are becoming second nature, and I feel…more able. It's hard to describe, but all the training, experience and infamy we're gaining is giving me an awfully confident feeling. 'Pride comes before a fall' keeps reverberating around my mind, but I'm trying to ignore it.

Same applies to the squad. Two months have let me cement relationships, get a handle on people's personalities, and generally get to know the squad better. With the exception of Grundan (who's retreated back into himself after the Mirki'it thing) and Vortash (whoever never really talked much anyway), I'd consider everyone else on the squad close friends. Even Melanis is loosening up towards me.

'Loosening', obviously. She's still wound up pretty tight. Training sessions every morning, which I've got the bruises to show from, and don't think for a second I've even managed to touch a bottle of Tupari. She actually had me shooting them for target practice at one point. Bitch. Still, the mocking and 'banter' we exchange is more good-natured than malicious these days, so I can deal with it. It's fun having someone to exchange insults with.

Only real problem has been the visions. I've only been sick once after the time before the mission before Mirki'it, but things are getting progressively more vivid. Instead of watching, it's more and more like…I'm there. Which is bad. And I've still had no luck deciphering the voice at the end…whatever letter is being said, I don't know what it is. Fortunately, no-one else has discovered me being sick except Garrus, and it's not happened on missions. So that's something, at least.

The joy of the situation on Omega is, despite all the mercs knowing what our armour sets look like, they don't know what we look like underneath. Which means (much to my relief) we're not stuck in the house all the time. There's been a few trips out to Afterlife, despite my initial misgivings. The first time we went, I was on edge, with the constant worry of somehow being discovered, getting in a fight, and trying to look at anything _except _the asari dancing around.

After nothing went wrong the first time, I've learnt to enjoy things a bit more. Sure, Omega's morally corrupt, crawling with criminals and generally a world-class shithole, but they sure do know how to run a nightclub. Beats the hell of out Flux, anyway. No noise regulations to keep the music down, even if it's usually god-awful, repetitive techno stuff. The nights where they get a live band in are good, though. She might not be the best ruler, but Aria knows how to keep her subjects happy.

Which is kind of how we got into the mission, actually. As the unofficial ambassador to Aria, I occasionally keep a presence in Afterlife. Going in every few nights in Butler's borrowed armour so Aria can recognise me, with another squad member watching my back. Usually it's just so she can see that I'm still around, let Aria know the operation's going strong.

Last night, though, Grizz slipped something onto the bar next to me as I was drinking some non-alcoholic salarian mixer (the turian bartender looked like he was going to spit on me in disgust when I ordered that, but the gun on my hip probably put him off). Small datapad, with the location of an Eclipse spaceport, a time, and a message saying that it would involve the exchange of 'information you might be interested in.'

Of course, this is basically Aria saying that she's interested in the information too. So, provided everything goes peachy here, I'll have to pay her a visit and find out what she wants. It's not ideal, but it's best to keep good relations. Unless this is garbage, but somehow I doubt it. The mercenaries exchange information amongst themselves all the time, and with wireless transfers always liable for interception from the other companies, they tend to prefer delivery in person for more sensitive stuff. Which is why we're here tonight. To find out what it is.

"_I have eyes on a shuttle approaching the dock from the north-east," _I hear Erash say through the radio, snapping my thoughts back to reality. The idea of this mission is to sneak in, wait for the shuttle to arrive, surprise attack to snatch the data to fight our way out. Which is why we've got a mixture of infiltration (myself and Melanis) and assault (Butler and Garrus). The spaceport is open-air, unsurprisingly, so Erash got dropped off onto a building nearby to give overwatch. Much to my chagrin, it's been three months, and he still hasn't missed a shot on our missions. The amount of credits I've lost is _unreal._

"How big is it?" Garrus asks. "Are they going to have many troops onboard?"

"_Negative," _Erash responds. _"From what I can tell, they would be fortunate to fit a pilot and three guards on board. Nothing that should concern you too greatly."_

"Now there's a stroke of luck," I smile, bringing up the sniper scope to aim at the shuttle's landing pad, as three Eclipse mercenaries walk out to meet it. One asari, who seems to be in charge, and two salarians. "Taking these out shouldn't be too hard. Then we've just got to fight past the load of guards behind us." I frown. "Actually, now that I say that out loud, this might still be kind of tricky."

"Bring the bastards on," Butler says, cocking his shotgun.

I glance over at Garrus and Melanis. "Should we all yell 'oorah' now? You know, get fired up, slap each other on the back, all that shit."

"Touch me, and I'll kill you," Melanis replies immediately, flicking a talon at me in the turian gesture for 'fuck off'. Even with our relationship becoming more lighthearted, I don't think she's lying.

Garrus just chuckles, shaking his head. "That never seemed like your style." The shuttle's finally coming in to land, and Garrus draws his sniper rifle as Melanis clutches her pistol. "Ian and I will cover you at first. Get in close, take them out, we'll all move in to get the package and then fight our way out of here."

"Got it," Melanis nods. "See you down there. Butler, come on. And keep low this time."

"I'm trying," I hear the Scot grumble as he follows her. "This sneaking shite isn't natural for me…"

Garrus chuckles next to me as we settle into position. The scope reads out at about a hundred metres between us and the mercenaries…so it's not _too _tricky a shot, given the amount I've practiced it. "So," I say out of the corner of my mouth, keeping my eye on the scope, "what do you think we'll find on that shuttle?"

"I was hoping Aria told you," he replies, tiniest hint of a shrug in his movements. "It'll be something she's interested in."

"Aria's interested in everything," I point out. "Any information we can get helps us, right?"

"Yeah. I just hope it's as useful to us as it is to her," Garrus mutters. "I don't like getting the feeling we're doing Aria's work."

"Mutual benefit," I reply. "We're doing her work, but it'll pay off for us as well. Considering we wouldn't have known about this otherwise…I guess we've got to compromise somewhere. Lesser of two evils."

"I'd rather there wasn't any evil at all," Garrus chuckles. "Alright, here we go." The shuttle's finally touched down, and from the raised position we're at I can see Melanis and Butler crouched in cover near to the deal location. Within shotgun range, anyway, which explains why Butler's got it primed. "Wait for the shuttle to open, the information to get exchanged, then we take them out."

"I know, I know," I say. "Credit me with some intelligence…" The shuttle doors finally open, allowing three armed guards to hop out, followed by a pilot. Four troops, exactly like Erash predicted…and the pilot's got a datapad clutched in one hand. It gets handed to the asari from before, who looks at it…then nods.

"Go, now," Garrus says. I squeeze the trigger at the same time as he does, two sharp cracks merging together as we execute the asari's two salarian guards, green blood from one actually covering her as they go down. It takes a second for the mercs to react, by which time Melanis and Butler have burst out of cover. The stunned asari gets torn down by a hail of shots from Melanis, as Butler turns his shotgun towards the pilot of that. One blast later, and said pilot is cartwheeling through the air from the force of the shot.

I pull back the sniper rifle's bolt smoothly, the whole manoeuvre second nature, and take aim at one of the three remaining guards. One staggers from a leg shot by Melanis, easily letting me pluck him off with a chest shot through weakened shields. Butler's shotgun takes yet another out of the picture…then the final guard falls back with a hole drilled in his head, closely followed by a rifle's report far off in the distance. That must've been Erash, then…

"Move!" Garrus barks, getting to his feet and tapping me on the shoulder. I can already hear the alarmed shouts of the guards we snuck past earlier…which is undoubtedly going to be followed by alarms in a minute or so. So 'move' sounds about right. I get up and sprint after Garrus, folding the rifle and placing it on my back as we descend towards the shuttle. Melanis is already crouched down over the asari's corpse as we reach her and Butler, placing the datapad onto a storage compartment on her armour.

"Is it damaged?" Garrus asks, as Butler and I aim our weapons back the way we came. Don't want them getting the drop on us…

"It's fine!" Melanis replies urgently. "Come on, we need to-" A burst of assault rifle fire sends us all scrambling for cover, as a team of about eight mercenaries emerge from the other end of the spaceport. The guys we left behind earlier. Well, so much for not taking us by surprise.

After a few panicked seconds of running, I manage to hurl myself prone behind one of the few crates scattered around the floor of the spaceport. Melanis joins me, as Butler and Garrus find shelter a few metres away from the shuttle. I swear, if mercenaries were a little more tidy, we'd have been dead a long time ago…

I point my pistol over cover in the vague direction of the mercenaries, firing off a few random shots to keep them pinned down, as weapon fire continues to thud against the crate. Thank God this thing is reinforced… "That's not gone well, has it?" I shout to Melanis, who's blindfiring with her assault rifle. "Any bright ideas?"

"After you!" the turian grunts, trying to peek over the crate, then hurling herself back down at the sudden onslaught of shots. She suddenly lets out a little pained noise, one talon going up to her helmet. Oh, crap!

"Mel?" Oh God, if something went through her shields… "You alright?" No response. "Melanis!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she finally says, shaking her head as she removes the talon from her helmet, and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Banged my head on the way down." I feel the slider on my pistol snap back, and I reach for a new thermal clip, slapping it in and pressing down on the catch holding the slide back.

"I thought I was supposed to be the careless one?"

"Very funny," Melanis shoots back, as the spread of mercenary fire suddenly shifts away from our crates, and towards the shuttle. Huh?

"What're they shooting their own shuttle for?" I ask.

"I have no idea," Melanis replies, sounding bemused. Which promptly turns to shock as part of the shuttle catches fire. "_S'kak, _they're trying to blow it up on us!"

"Run?"

"Definitely run!" she yells back, grabbing me by the shoulder. Nothing quite like running into a hail of bullets…but it beats getting blown up. Garrus and Butler seem to have had the same idea, breaking from their position and charging towards the mercenaries on the walkway above us, firing their weapons wildly. I do the same with the pistol, shooting blindly from the hip as we move to the stairs leading to the walkway. I manage to get a few hits in, but the mercs get significantly more. My shields drop to 10%, and one particularly well aimed shot impacts my shoulder, sending me spinning around-

Just as the shuttle explodes. The distance isn't enough to hurl me off my feet, but I stagger, feeling the heatwave even through the protective layers of armour. Fortunately, the explosion also manages to knock the mercenaries too, and for a brief moment the area is devoid of gunfire.

The mercs all seem to be gathered on the walkway, which is within throwing distance. I have grenades. I'm reaching down for them before I can really think about what I'm doing. They've got five second fuses…and I don't want the mercs running. Despite instinct, I hold on for two seconds, then hurl it overarm at them. Throwing was never my strong point, but this seems to be on target…

My heart sinks as the grenade hits the walkway's railing, beginning to bounce back…then explodes almost as soon as it rebounds, ripping a huge hole in the walkway banister and the various mercenaries next to it. "Have some of that!" I yell triumphantly, almost able to feel the glare Melanis is undoubtedly giving me. From what I can tell, that took down at least five of them…and sent the others reeling, as another sniper shot rings out from the distance. I don't see where the shot ends up, but given that it was Erash, I'm fairly certain that five mercenaries down just turned into six.

Garrus is first onto the steps, charging up them two at a time as the rest of us follow close behind. The two remaining mercenaries turn their weapons on him as he reaches the top…but Garrus shoots one right between the eyes as he charges up to the other and smacks her in the face with the butt of the rifle. The asari mercenary staggers back, allowing the turian to step forward, spin her to the side…and with a shove, send her off the walkway to the solid floor below.

"That wasn't a bit unnecessary?" I ask, as we all continue rushing forwards. The walkway leads back into the administration building we initially had to come through, but from the looks of things, we managed to clean out all the guards.

"She was in our way," Garrus says non-chalantly. The four of us stack up next to the door into the building, two on either side. I quickly drop the thermal clip I'm using, replacing it with a fresh one as Garrus reaches for the door controls. "Good grenade throw, by the way."

"See, I'm more than just a pretty face." I swear I hear Melanis growl behind me when I say that.

"The grenade bounced off the railing," she points out. "If you hadn't held the fuse, you could have killed one of us."

"But I did hold the fuse." I grin under the helmet. "So what's the problem?"

Unfortunately, whatever witty comeback Melanis was preparing is interrupted by the door into the building opening, and the four of us burst in with weapons up. When we were sneaking in here, we avoided the cameras…but now we're heading for extraction, it's actually good if they see us. Lets the mercs know who's responsible, anyway.

We hurtle down whitewashed corridors in virtual silence, only pausing to check around corners. The building appears to be deserted, though, as a lonely alarm wails around the place. I guess when shit started exploding, the admin workers all got out…and I can't say I blame them. It makes our job easier, anyway. It's been about five minutes since the alarm's been raised, meaning we're going to have Eclipse on our ass any time now. Seeing as the extraction point for Vortash should be the roof…yeah, we're cutting it fine.

"_Eclipse appears to have reacted to the situation," _Erash's calm voice cuts through the silence, as we finally reach the stairwell leading to the top of the building. I can't help but rolling my eyes as I see them. In the future, you'd think people would've had escalators everywhere…but no, time to run up at least twenty flights of stairs. Screw getting shot at; this is_definitely _the hardest part of the mission. "_You have ships converging upon your position. Unfortunately, these ships __**do **__fit more than four people."_

"How many do you reckon?" I pant, using the banister to try and sprint upstairs faster. Keeping pace with Melanis is good motivation, though. No way I'm letting her get ahead. Too far ahead, anyway.

"_I would say about ten in each."_

"That's not so bad," I say, as I look at the number on the wall as I run past. We're on floor three…and the roof is five. Damn it. "Ten seems kind of insulting."

"_There also happens to be four of those ships."_

"We're popular today, aren't we?" Melanis comments dryly, and I'm somewhat pleased she sound as out of breath as I am.

"I like it," Butler gasps. "Lets us know how much we're pissing those bastards off."

Garrus somehow manages a chuckle from the steps above us, as he waits on the fifth floor. Where he gets the fitness, I'll never know. "Forty mercenaries. I'd say they're pretty pissed off. This information must really be worth something."

"Or we're worth more," I say, as we burst towards the roof exit. Vortash had better be here… "Everyone wants Archangel's head on a platter."

"Nice bit of positive input there, Shaw," Butler mutters as we burst onto the roof…where Vortash is beginning his descent towards us, presumably having picked up Erash from his position on the way here. "It's always a riot thinking about the massive bounties on our heads. Cannae get enough of it."

Shouts begin to fill the air…quickly followed by bullets as the Eclipse mercs realise the descending shuttle isn't one of theirs. "I like being valued," I reply, as the shuttle finally touches down, Erash beckoning at us frantically as the doors open. "I want to see how high I can get this bounty, to be honest. I'll be happy with a million credits."

Garrus hops in first, and I'm close on his tail. "Don't flatter yourself," Melanis chuckles, giving me an unnecessarily hard shove into the shuttle as she throws herself in afterwards.

"Oh, 'don't flatter yourself'. Haha. That's cute." The shuttle takes off again as soon as Butler gets on, with a lurch that almost knocks me off my feet. Bullets pepper against the side of the shuttle as the doors close…but the shields can stand significantly more than that without too much bother. I let the helmet fold back into my armour, fixing Melanis with a disapproving glare as I do so. "Well, that went better than I expected."

Butler tears his helmet off with one hand, giving me an odd look. "Did it?"

"Everything went to plan," I shrug. "In my book, that's a success. Usually _something _really stupid has to happen at least once."

"And it's usually your fault," Melanis interjects. My glare gets even deeper. "What? You're obviously improving, since it didn't happen this time."

"Thanks?"

Erash interrupts, tapping Melanis on the shoulder with a talon. "Am I the only one curious to ascertain the contents of this information you gathered?"

"He's right," Garrus nods. "That's what we came for, after all. Melanis? You still have it?"

The female turian drops a hand to her belt, then to a storage compartment, her eyes going wide. "Oh, shit, I must've dropped it-"

"You've got to be kidding me," I moan, eyes widening in shock.

"Yeah, I am." Melanis bursts out laughing as she pulls out the datapad, giving me a smug grin as she hands it over to Garrus. Mandibles widened, teeth bared. "You should've seen the look on your face."

"I'm sure it was hilarious," I mutter, feeling embarrassed as Garrus begins scrolling through the file. She always finds something, doesn't she… "So, what's on that file that Aria thought was worth our time?"

Garrus looks up, eyes roving around to make contact with the whole squad. "Not what. Who. I think we've found ourselves a new target."

"Does this 'target' have a name?" Erash asks.

"Yeah. Williams," Garrus nods. "Gus Williams."

**A/N: Hey, I'm back! Sorry this took a little while, I was updating Case Zero and doing school work.**

**Only a brief flashforward there, but it sets up the next one rather nicely. I totally owe TheRev28 for helping me out there (had some nasty writer's block), so cheers bro. Anyway, case two has begun! Some of you might know Gus Williams' role if you're up to date on your LotSB dossiers, but for the rest, you'll find out next chapter. Even if you do know who he is, it'll go a little more in-depth than what the dossier says…thanks to another visit to Aria. And probably some squad interactions to look forward to as well.**

**So, hope you enjoyed that. Starting the case off with some action for a change was fun. Have a nice day/evening, and thanks for reading!**

**P.S: Anyone here use TVTropes? Masses to Masses has a page that needs some updating, so anyone doing that would be awesome. Just saying.**


	22. Ian vs The Link

Chapter 22

We Shot The Moon: A Silver Lining

**A/N: I just realised that I've been spelling Monteague's name wrong for the past ten or so chapters. It's not Montague like in Romeo and Juliet, which is what I've been doing. Oops.**

"This guy doesnae look like much, does he?" Butler asks the rest of the crew rhetorically, holding the datapad we managed to retrieve from Eclipse. "Chubby wee bastard."

He's got a point, actually. Considering the hell we went through to actually receive this datapad, I was expecting some kind of information that was at least somewhat mind-blowing. Instead, we've got a picture and dossier of one Gus Williams, arms smuggler. Not a flattering picture, at that. From the information on the dossier, he's about 5'-4", he arrived on Omega a day ago, and has a rather…rotund figure. When I read that he was a smuggler, I was half-expecting some kind of Han Solo figure, but apparently you don't need to be in good shape to be a smuggler in the ME universe. I can't see this bloke running away from C-Sec. Or at least not running very far.

"Eclipse has an interest in him," Garrus says. "And he's on Omega. It doesn't matter what he looks like, he's got to be important somehow."

"Aye, too bad there's nothing on this thing to tell us _why _he's important," Butler grunts, handing the datapad over to Melanis and Monteague, who both start going through it. "They know everything about this guy's life, though. What type of food he likes, where he prefers to stay while he's on Omega, which asari he likes…shit, that's just nasty."

"Weapon smugglers aren't exactly a rare species on Omega," Melanis admits. "I hate to say it, but we might be wasting our time with this one. Who picked up on this lead, actually?" She shoots an accusing glance over at me. Aw, come on!

"Aria told me about it," I reply indignantly. "She wouldn't waste our time with something like this."

Weaver chuckles from opposite me. "You know Aria so well, clearly. This is exactly the kind of thing she'd waste our time with. We're doing her dirty work for her."

"No, we're missing something," I say, sticking a hand out at Melanis and beckoning for the dossier. "I've been hanging around Afterlife for months now, and she's never decided to waste our time before. We have a mutually beneficial relationship, she wouldn't want to ruin that. Besides, you think Eclipse keeps detailed tabs on many arms smugglers?"

"That is a valid point," Erash muses. "There's a definite implication that Williams has ties to Eclipse that his other smuggler colleagues do not." Melanis finally passes to the dossier to me, and I start scrolling through it quickly. There's basic information, like Gus' name, species, height, weight, so on and so forth. Along with that, a list of luxuries our man likes to indulge in, then below, a list of planets he's visited in recent months. No explanation as to why it's on there. Huh…

"At the very least, we damaged an Eclipse spaceport," Sidonis says, obviously trying to point out the silver lining. "So it wasn't a total waste."

"But it was still a waste," Grundan mutters. Oh, thanks for the positive input, you prick…

"They've been watching his movements," I say, tossing the dossier over to Garrus. "Big list of planets and settlements on there. I know this doesn't seem like much, but there's way too much detail on there for Gus Williams to be irrelevant."

Garrus' beady eyes focus on the dossier, the data constantly streaming on his visor seemingly ignored as he stares. "Someone needs to take a look through this list of planets, search for a connection. Maybe Aria is just taking advantage of us. But I want to be sure before we throw away a lead like this. Laet, Melanis, Erash, copy the dossier and check those planets. If there's a link between them, I want it found." Well, at least Garrus is on board. Too bad about the rest of the squad.

"That's going to take hours," Melanis protests.

"It's Ian's lead, too. Shouldn't he look through them with us?" Laet adds. I shoot him a glare at that. Cheers, mate!

"We're not being lazy about this. I don't care how long it takes, get it done," Garrus says, tone of voice showing he's not joking around. "And if I'd wanted Ian to do it, I'd have asked him." With that, he turns to me. "Aria's going to want to see the dossier, isn't she?"

I shrug apologetically. "She did tell us about it. We ought to return the favour somehow."

"She hasn't done us a favour," Weaver says.

"We don't know that yet," I reply, furrowing my brow at him. Maybe I'm going crazy, but my intuition is screaming that there's something about this Williams character we don't quite understand yet, and from the looks of things, so is Garrus'. "I'd rather keep Omega's self-proclaimed queen as a friend, too."

The salarian lets out a short, mocking laugh at that. "Aria doesn't have friends."

"But she does have enemies. I'd rather not be one of them. Besides, talking to her might actually shed some light on this whole thing," I say. "We don't have to be friends, but it'll keep things diplomatic."

"Diplomacy?" Melanis asks. "On Omega? Wake up."

Garrus suddenly lets out a low growl, that causes everyone in the room to immediately shut up and look at him. "We have a lead. I'm giving you orders. So, stop bickering between yourselves, and get it done." He clicks his mandibles irritably. "We're supposed to be professionals, behave like it!"

The silence hangs in the air for a few moments, before Weaver speaks up. "Sorry, Garrus." The rest of the squad quietly voice their apologies, even Grundan and Vortash, though he just nods along to what everyone else is saying.

"I know this doesn't seem like much at the moment," Garrus says, voice growing calmer. "That doesn't mean we ignore it. C-Sec taught me that much." Mierin and I both nod in agreement at that. The whole Saleon thing started out innocently enough…and look how that ended up. "Look, the mercenaries obviously value Gus Williams. We can at least find out why. If that means we have to put up with Aria to bring the mercs to justice, then that's fine by me."

"Understood," Weaver says stiffly, and I can't help but feel proud of Garrus. The group respects him, listens to him, and he's not letting small details like Gus Williams go blindly past him. If we'd stayed on at C-Sec, he'd have made a pretty good Executor…

"Ian, you should go and see Aria. Now," Garrus adds. "She'll have heard about the attack on the spaceport by now. Take someone with you."

"I'll go," Monteague volunteers. "I like being able to go out of the house for a change." Huh…normally one of the fighting squad members is back up. Then again, Afterlife isn't particularly dangerous, and Montague's pretty chill.

"Fine by me," I nod. It always makes the visits a little more bearable when someone I actually like goes with me. I remember the one time everyone else was out on a mission and I had to go with Grundan…boy, was that awkward. Not a single word was spoken, and not a single fuck was given. I could've been shot at, and Grundan probably wouldn't have been distracted from his drink.

"We'll all meet up here when you're done," Garrus says. Then, slowly, the stern look on his face melts into a half-smile. "If there's really nothing to this, I'll buy you all a round when we next go out."

"And we get to say 'I told you so'," Laet adds. Most of the group smirk at that.

"Grow up, Laet," Garrus mutters, smiling fully as he glances at his old friend. "You've all got your assignments. If you really want to prove me wrong, get me some evidence. Dismissed."

I grin as the squad gets up, Laet, Erash and Melanis looking positively excited as they walk off towards Laet's workshop, and the terminal in it. Proving Garrus wrong is obviously a pretty strong incentive…

"We should get moving," Monteague says from behind me, making me jump. Fuck, he must've got there while I was watching Laet and the others…drell move quick, apparently.

"Alright. Grab what you need, then meet me by the shuttle," I nod. Another meeting with Aria…after the first one went so well, no wonder I'm feeling some anticipation about this one. There's something oddly impressive about how she can scare the crap out of me without ever saying a threatening word. "Butler! I'm gonna need that armour set!"

############

"I didn't realise you actually had weapons and stuff," I say to Monteague, as Vortash swoops the shuttle between two buildings and under a lane of traffic. The drell sitting opposite me looks…kind of awesome, actually. One pistol strapped to the belt on his hip, same as me. Along with that, he's wearing a long, black trench-coat, with what looks like some Japanese style patterning around the shoulders, combined with a grey top and combat trousers underneath. He's also wearing shades, but not the typical kind I'm used to. Instead, two tinted lenses cover his eyes, without the frames typically associated with glasses. All in all…pretty badass.

"It's a precaution I take," he shrugs. "In case the base is ever attacked. Just because I'm a doctor, it doesn't mean I have to be a pacifist. It pays to be prepared."

"So, you've had weapon experience?" I ask curiously, leaning forward in my seat. Considering he's the squad doctor, I guess I'm surprised to see him with a gun. Then again, Mordin Solus is a doctor/scientist, and he's kicking ass.

"Self-taught," Monteague nods. "Living on Omega…it encouraged me to practice." He chuckles lightly, typically rough drell voice rolling around the interior of the shuttle. "I came here to help people. Apparently, some inhabitants of this rock take offence to that."

I settle back in my seat, raising an eyebrow at the drell. We've known each other for three months, get along well, but I still know very little about him. Same with most of the squad, actually, we usually keep the past to ourselves. Sounds like he might want to open up, though. "What were you doing to help people? Did you have a job in a med clinic?"

"Almost correct," he replies. "I was running my own med clinic. The hanar trained me in medicine, how to heal the body, the mind. The subject has always fascinated me." Monteague suddenly appears distant, eyes staring right through me as he smile to himself. Oh, crap, is he slipping into- "University library, hours after classes finished. Three books opened in front of me, turian physiology, mentality, and medical practices. Tutor comes over. _It__'__s __late, __Monteague. __Save __yourself __for __tomorrow__'__s __lessons._I ignore him."

I watch with a mixture of awe and fascination as the drell's eyes suddenly go back into focus, and he blinks a few times. "You alright?" I ask.

"I'm fine. Sorry," he replies. "Memories can easily become overpowering. It is both a blessing and a curse."

"Hey, don't apologise," I say quickly. Seeing someone totally zone out like that is really weird, but really…'cool' doesn't seem like the word to describe it, so I don't know. Interesting to see, considering he's literally reliving the experience right in front of me. I tend to ignore the fact that I'm surrounded by aliens, but it's times like these you realise how different our species can be. In a good way. "You loved your subject. You don't see enough of that in people these days."

"Thank you," he says, inclining his head. "As you can probably guess, I graduated with high honours. Some said Vaelhish was helping me, but I like to think some of it was due to my own work."

"Is Vaelhish another drell god?"

"Goddess," Monteague corrects me. "She is the Goddess of Fortune."

"Putting it down to luck," I chuckle. "Sore losers."

Monteague smiles at that. "Perhaps. Regardless, I came out of it wishing to help people other than my own species and the hanar. I had studied other races, and putting the knowledge to use seemed the logical thing to do."

I frown, folding my arms. "You were one of the finest medical graduates on Kahje, and they just let you go?"

"It was my decision," he explains. "The hanar would not hold anyone back from what they wanted to do. I'm sure they'd rather I'd stayed, but…I wanted to see beyond Kahje."

"And you chose Omega? Did the Citadel seem too boring and safe?"

"Omega is a cultural hub of the galaxy," Monteague says patiently. "The Citadel is too, but it has more than enough medical experts tending to the people there. Omega, alternatively, has very few. I wished to try and address that balance. Setting up a medical clinic was simple enough. I had the money to purchase supplies, pay rent, hire staff. Unfortunately, I did not budget for security." He frowns deeply at that. "My clinic was in Blood Pack territory."

"Damn," I mutter. "Of all the places you could choose…"

"I knew very little about Omega when I arrived," Monteague shrugs. "I had no idea what the location would entail. I had the clinic up and running for a month or so before they took interest. At first, the Blood Pack offered security services, for extortionate prices. I turned them down. They returned, simply demanding money from me. Again, I refused."

"Krogan don't usually take no for an answer," I say. "I can see why you trained yourself to fight."

"I had no choice," Monteague replies, regret in his tone. "I never asked for this. But fighting the mercenaries to protect the people who needed my help…I did not have a choice. I thought I managed to scare them away at first. Then they returned. With more troops."

Crap, I can see where this is going. And it ain't anywhere nice. "You couldn't stop them all by yourself."

"No. I tried, but I couldn't. They razed it to the ground, and I barely escaped." Monteague looks down at the ground, expression on his face almost pained. "I left Blood Pack territory, wandered the streets, tried to help those who needed it most. It seemed pointless. I considered leaving. But, perhaps Vaelhish was watching over me after all. I met Garrus."

"And he gave you this job? How'd he know to find you?"

Monteague smiles a little. "I managed to build up a small reputation for myself. A drell who would heal the people of the streets. No doubt some people think I'm a myth. Garrus found me while I was doing my rounds. Asked me if I wanted to make a real difference around here."

"No prizes for guessing what your answer was," I say.

"Indeed." Monteague chuckles again, lifting his head back up to look at me. "I couldn't refuse. We have a common enemy, and working with you does more to help people then I ever could by myself. And…well, here I am." The drell smiles. "He gave me a reason to stay."

Damn…I was expecting Monteague to have a story, but that's pretty intense. Not only is he a medical genius, but he's been in conflict with the Blood Pack, temporarily ran a med clinic, and kept on working even when that got destroyed. "That's incredible," I say. Oh, shit, his clinic did get burned to the ground…'incredible' might not be the best thing to say. "I mean, your story. Not what happened. That's not so good."

"I survived, and I am helping people," Monteague shrugs. "It could have turned out a lot worse for me, after everything that happened. And you, Shaw?"

I give him a funny look. "I'm not sure I understand the question."

"Why are you here?"

"Garrus, mainly," I explain. Normally I've got to lie about my past, so it's refreshing to be able to tell the truth about something for once. "He already told you we were partners at C-Sec, right? And we fought Saren together after that." Montague nods. "Good. Beyond that, well…to be honest, that covers it. I got worried about him. Things on the Citadel weren't really working out for me, helping the people who needed it the most had an appeal, plus I get to make sure he doesn't get himself killed." I shrug. "Why wouldn't I come here?"

I feel a small lurch in my stomach, glancing out of the window to see Afterlife drawing closer. Almost there… "You do seem to have a habit of throwing yourself into the line of fire," Monteague points out.

"Only because Garrus leads me into it," I reply, grinning. The movement of buildings flying past slows, as the shuttle descends to the parking area on the left hand side of the club. "Hey, I guess if you hadn't ran into Garrus, you'd never have met Melanis. So that's a plus."

"That is true," the drell replies. "She's an excellent friend."

I smirk as Vortash finally touches down, and wordlessly opens the shuttle doors. "You don't have to be reserved about it, Monteague." Both of us hop out of the shuttle, the feel of ground that isn't rapidly bucking around oddly reassuring. "Thanks for the ride, Vortash!" No reply. Huh…Monteague and I stride quickly towards the krogan bouncer, as I turn my attention back to the drell. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I'm cool with interspecies relationships."

The drell stares at me for a few seconds, then bursts out laughing. Eh? Did I misread him and Melanis? "No, we're really just good friends," he explains, still laughing. "I thought you knew."

I frown. "Knew what?"

"I'm gay." Monteague fixes me with a serious stare. "You've known me for three months, and you had no idea?"

Whoa, what? All the stuff with him and Melanis…damn it, I _was _wrong about them! This is totally Wrex's fault, making me look for stuff that isn't there. "No. No-one mentioned anything." I blink a couple of times, then realise how this must look. "Don't get me wrong, mate, I don't care that you're gay, it's just a surprise."

"You will get over it," he chuckles. "Come on. Aria will be waiting for you."

"Right, right," I nod, stepping towards the bouncer. Monteague's gay? Really? Never would have guessed…good for him, though. Guy's still a certified bro. The krogan bouncer gives me a sharp nod as we make eye contact. Aria's told all the staff to look for my armour set…and if they see it, to make sure I don't have to queue. Ah, the privileges an ambassador gets.

"She's expecting you," he grunts, as Monetague and I walk past. "Don't keep Aria waiting."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I mutter, stepping through the excessively large doors into Afterlife's antechamber, typical flame effect filling the room. Tonight, oddly, the flames are coloured blue as we walk, casting an odd flickering light over the corridor. I like it, actually… "You might want to get a drink. This could take a little while."

"I was planning on it," Monteague chuckles. "I'll be at the bar on the left once we're done."

"Of course you will," I chuckle, and we stroll into the main area of the club. Got to admit, the place is buzzing. Even more than normal. Big crowd, mainly turians and humans, meaning just about every table I walk past is full. Plus, just about every table has an asari on the centre of it. They'll be doing a roaring trade tonight…

Electro music pulses through the air as I move up to Grizz, being careful to avoid spilling the drink of a huge krogan who stumbles out in front of me. If it was any other species, I wouldn't care so much…but fist fighting a krogan is always a bad idea. Arguably, they're _more _dangerous when they're drunk.

"Good. You're here," Grizz mutters as I walk up to him. "Aria says you have a lot to talk about."

"You're happy to see me, Grizz?" I say, putting on a mock-cheerful voice as I look at him. "You're melting my heart, man."

"I don't know why Aria keeps you around," he replies, sounding even more pissed off than usual. "Get up there. Now. Before I lose my temper."

"Missing you already." I grin, hearing his frustrated growl behind me. Aria's staring out over the club floor, her back turned to me as I walk up. The new, human guard that replaced the batarian beckons me forward, and I carefully pull out the datapad with Gus Williams' dossier on it. Time for a little chat, me-thinks.

"Good atmosphere tonight," I say, as Aria turns her head to look at me with one eye. You can practically see the slyness in them, the calculating, cold personality that let her become the ruler of this place. Screw Weaver, we _definitely _want her on our side. "Is there a special occasion?"

"There's an offer on drinks. The queen has to keep her subjects happy." The asari finally turns around fully, beckoning for me to sit down as the corners of her mouth curl up into a smile. "I see your drell friend is enjoying the low prices, anyway." Of course she knows who's with me…krogan probably radioed ahead to tell them what to look for as soon as we walked through the door. Probably trying to gain a psychological advantage by showing me she knows things I'd rather she didn't. It's basic interrogation technique, so I'm not overly fazed by it.

"May as well enjoy it while he can," I shrug. "So, we followed up on your lead, got the information off the Eclipse shuttle."

"I heard," Aria says, reaching out a hand for the dossier, which I hand over. "You also managed to destroy the shuttle, and cause significant damage to the spaceport they were using. I was expecting a more subtle approach from Archangel."

"We do have an obligation to damage the mercenaries," I reply. "Don't hold that against us. Besides, they destroyed the shuttle trying to kill us. We'd never be so reckless."

Aria actually chuckles a bit at that, but her eyes never come off the dossier as she does so. "Of course not. I heard that they sent more than forty mercs after you." For a second, her eyes flash up to look into mine. "Or was it more like four hundred?"

"Just forty," I grin. "It was an off day. I'm not sure how much that dossier is worth, though. All that's on it is some stuff about a weapon smuggler called Gus Williams. We checked it for hidden files, but nothing else shows up."

"What's useless to one person can be important to another," Aria smiles. Oh, doesn't she just love lording over me the fact that she knows more than I do… "This confirms he's on Omega. Perfect. Your involvement with Mr. Williams might not be over."

"We get to do more of your dirty work? Oh, good," I mutter sarcastically. "Look, Aria, we appreciate the leads. But we're not going to go around retrieving random bits of information for you."

"I'm aware," Aria replies, her eyes narrowing as she drops the datapad to her side and stares at me. "Please, don't talk me like I'm stupid. Let's not forget who needs who here."

Part of me is tempted to try some kind of rebuke, but it's not worth my time. Apologising, on the other hand, is just going to make me look weak. I settle for saying nothing, as Aria takes a seat and adopts a relaxed position. As much as she talks about me being dependant on her, I don't think she'd have got this information if it wasn't for us. Even if she doesn't want to admit it, I've still got room to negotiate. "Gus is an arms smuggler," I say. "So, yes, it's in our interests to get rid of him. But for you to get involved, and for Eclipse to keep a file on him, I'm going to hazard a guess that we're missing something about this guy."

"That's because he's not any ordinary smuggler," Aria says. "Gus works for Eclipse. The hire him to get weaponry to places with…slightly less liberal import controls than Omega. Whatever they need, he gets it done. So, it would be fair to say they value him quite a lot."

"That explains the interest," I nod. "And that makes him a viable target for us…so, the list of planets on his dossier? They'll all have Eclipse bases on, right?"

"Not bad," Aria chuckles. "Good to see Archangel has more than just grunts working for him. Yes, the planet list will be places he delivered to. Killing our mutual friend Mr. Williams would be quite a damaging blow to Eclipse."

"And I'm sure you can think of plenty other damaging things that you don't tell us about," I say calmly. "You've got a stake in this, Aria. May as well tell me what it is."

Aria pauses for a few seconds, eyes glinting in the red hue cast over the club as she runs things through her mind. "Fine," she finally nods. "Only because I like you." Okay, little creepy… "I have a tax on people who wish to export sensitive goods from Omega. Weapons come under this category, and in recent months Mr. Williams has refused to pay."

"You realise we're going to kill him, right?" I ask. "Not collect his taxes."

"Oh, believe me, Gus Williams is well beyond the point where I would accept his money," Aria says coolly, smiling to herself. "Killing him sends a stronger message to anyone else who would try to avoid paying what they're due. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah," I mutter, raising both eyebrows. She's a hell of a woman… "Loads. You have people killed all the time, though. Grizz and Anto can't handle one little human?"

"Eclipse's involvement makes things a little more…sensitive," Aria says. "I could have my people kill him. But I like to keep relationships with the mercenary groups civil. At least, give the appearance of being civil. If you kill him, it solves our mutual problem, and Eclipse are none the wiser."

"Except we're the ones getting shot at," I point out. "Naturally."

Aria laughs, leaning back in her seat. "You chose to fight the mercenary groups. This is all part of your job." Ugh, she's got a point…and from the sounds of it, Williams is a bigger fish than we initially suspected. I don't want to appear too eager in front of Aria, but Garrus is gonna like this. We haven't had one particular villain to focus our attention on for a while now.

"So, hypothetically, let's say I agree to this. What then? Where do we find Gus Williams?"

"Let's not play games," Aria smiles. "The fact you're even asking shows you're interested." Damn it, I'm _way _too easy to read. "Eclipse will want to treat Williams well during his stay here. He's a private contractor, which means he could just as easily switch to another group. They'll want to keep him on board."

I nod my head. "I get it. Like, when rich people go to Las Vegas, and the casinos give them tons of stuff for free so they blow all their money gambling. The benefit they get from giving away free stuff more than covers the expenditure."

"I don't know what Las Vegas is," Aria says, a touch disdainfully, "but you seem to have the right idea. According to the dossier, they know his favourite hotel is the Missoni. Along with that, he likes drink, parties, food, and asari." She chuckles at that last detail. "He should just come to Afterlife."

"I'll be sure to tell him that before we shoot him," I say. "So, Eclipse are going to putting on a nice party for him. Interesting."

"It lets them entertain other important people, too," Aria points out. "They want as many people on their side as possible. Which means this party's going to have quite the guest list."

I chuckle under the helmet. Now, there's a thought… "You're suggesting we get on the list?"

"It shouldn't be too hard for a tech expert to hack it and put two more names on," Aria says, smiling. "How you take care of the problem is no concern of mine. I just want Gus Williams dead, and so do you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," I nod, rising to my feet. "We'll check out that hotel and party. Thanks."

"Oh, it's for my benefit, not yours. No need for thanks," she grins. I roll my eyes as I turn my back to her. "It's still early. You should loosen off, get a drink, see what the dancers are doing. I hear it helps before a mission."

"I don't drink," I reply, turning my head to face her. "And I'm not overly keen on asari. Nice offer, though."

"Such a good boy," Aria chuckles. "No vices. You still reek of the Citadel."

"Beats smelling like Omega," I shrug, turning away again, but not before I see Aria's confident smile still stuck on her face at my reply. "See you around, Aria."

"I'm sure you will," the asari says, turning back to look over the bar as I walk away. Goddammit, the last thing she says doesn't even make sense, and it still feels like she got one over me. I give Monteague a quick wave as I head down the steps from the booth, causing the drell to down whatever he was drinking and walk towards me, causing the both of us to meet halfway.

"What did she say?" he shouts over the blaring music.

"That we've got ourselves a target!" I shout back, as a turian barges into my side. "I'll explain back on the shuttle!" As we struggle our way towards the exit, I quickly open my omni-tool and set up a call to Garrus, turning off the helmet's external speakers. It's a little suspicious to be strolling around whilst talking about killing people. Then again, this is Omega, so that's normal practice…

"Ian," he says immediately, as the call connects. "I was about to call you. Laet and the others found a link between the planets. They've-"

"All got Eclipse bases on them, I know," I reply quickly. "I'll give you the details soon, but you need to get someone to look at the guest list for an event at the Missoni hotel."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Turns out we've got ourselves a lead after all," I grin. "And tell Melanis to get her dancing shoes on. We're going to a party."

**A/N****:****Alright, ****now ****the ****case ****is ****really ****going! ****Since ****I****'****ve ****worked ****out ****what ****I ****want ****to ****do ****with ****it, ****heh. ****Sure, ****it ****seems ****simple ****now, ****but ****I ****think ****you****'****re ****all ****going ****to ****enjoy ****this ****one****…**

**I'm not sure if I'll be able to get the next chapter out too soon (going down to visit my bro at uni this weekend), but I'll try my best. I'm kind of hyped for this plot arc, actually, so hopefully I'll work something out. Apologies in advance if it takes a little longer than usual. **

**Thanks ****for r****eading, ****reviewing ****(almost ****700, ****woo), ****and ****being ****awesome. ****Until ****next ****time!**


	23. Ian vs The Party

Chapter 23

LMFAO: Party Rock Anthem

"Looking sharp," Laet says as I walk down the steps into the living area, nodding his head approvingly while I fiddle with the cufflinks on my suit. I'm not sure what possessed me to take it along with my casual clothes when I left the Citadel, but now I'm feeling pretty pleased that I did. Some people prefer tuxedos, but…nah, suit works better for me. Thin tie, white shirt, black jacket, black trousers, and a nice pair of shoes. Part of me wanted to throw on some Converse for the whole Doctor Who look, until I remembered the party's supposed to be proper formal wear…and I don't like Doctor Who.

"And you would know that how?" I ask, smiling back at the group sat down. There's only four of us going on the mission, myself, Melanis, Mierin and Garrus, but a few of the others are hanging around, namely Montague, Erash, Laet, Weaver and Butler. Presumably they're here for the laughs at seeing Melanis and I in formal wear. Speaking of which, she's not here yet…I guess it takes longer to change into a dress. "I didn't think you knew about human formal wear."

"I don't," Laet shrugs, mandibles flexing in amusement. "Just said it to make you feel confident." I let out a small chuckle at that, walking to a sofa and flopping down next to Butler, who shifts over a bit to give me room.

"Good effort," I reply. "It's working, though. I actually feel pretty hyped for this, going in right under the merc's noses…there's this whole thrill to it we don't normally get."

"Remember that you're there to kill Williams," Weaver says gruffly. "Don't enjoy yourself too much."

"Eh, I can mix business and pleasure for once," I shrug. Weaver just shakes his head, but there's a hint of a smile under the serious demeanour. "I took a look at the invites Grundan got for us…full buffet and free drinks. The mercs are basically buying us dinner. I can't refuse that."

I may not particularly like Grundan, but the man knows how to hack. Took him less than five minutes to get Melanis and I onto the guest list, and get us out invites. It might have made more sense for us to send a turian couple, rather than a human and a turian…but after Garrus and Shepard, people are more liberal about that stuff, plus we're the infiltration team. Like it or not, this mission suits our skill sets.

I'm going in as Charles Carmichael, naturally, and Melanis is Areash Xatarian for the night. Both of us have the vague backstory of weapon researchers, which gives me plenty of room to work with. Hopefully no-one's going to talk to us, though. That'd be awkward.

"You'll have to blend in at first," Garrus says, chuckling. "So you have my permission to enjoy yourself. At least until Mierin gets in."

I look over at the salarian, who seems even more excited than I am for this. Eyes wide open, fiddling with his fingers nervously. "You know what you're doing, mate?"

"Yes. I pose as a porter," Mierin replies, nodding a couple more times than necessary. "Grundan looked up a list of workers, and there's some salarian names on there. I can subdue one, and disguise myself. Then, I take your armour and weaponry in with a suitcase."

"Where do you leave it?" Garrus asks rhetorically.

"Inside the storage room on the ground floor," Mierin replies instantly. "I know, I know. I'll send a message to your omni-tool when I'm ready."

"Cheers," I say, grinning at Mierin's expression. God, I remember the days when I was that enthusiastic for missions. We'll see if he's like that in a few years. "Then Melanis and I take over. Grab out weapons and armour, head up to Williams' room, burst in, kill him, and make our escape. Easy."

Butler groans from next to me. "Dinnae say it's gonna be easy, Shaw, you'll jinx it."

"You actually believe that crap?" Weaver chuckles. "I never had you down as the superstitious type, Butler"

"I'm no' superstitious," he replies firmly. "It's what happens."

"You two, stop arguing. And Butler, don't try to scare Ian before a mission," Garrus says, smile playing around the edges of his mouth as he bares his teeth a fraction. "The party will have started by now. Where's Melanis?"

I shrug. She is taking a while…probably through reluctance. She took the news that we were going to a party about as well as I thought she would. Which is to say, flat out denial followed by begrudging acceptance. We might be going as a couple, but I suspect it's not going to be a happy one. "We'll be fashionably late. I don't want to turn up to a mercenary party on time, that implies some kind of respect for them."

"We certainly do not want that," Erash chuckles. "Killing one of their assets, and insulting them through bad etiquette. I like it."

"We can hurt their feelings as well as physically," I laugh, looking up the stairs again. Jesus, what's keeping her! "Laet, you're going to have to tell me if what she's wearing is nice. I know as much about what looks good on a turian as you do about humans."

Laet actually looks a bit unsure when I say that, glancing to the side nervously. "Erm…I don't really know what to look for. Erash, you can help him."

I raise an eyebrow at Laet. "You're telling me you don't know what to appreciate on your own spec-" A sudden flash of blue out of the corner of my eye makes me instinctively look back at the stairs…and there she is. Blue dress, fairly tight fitting, going down to just above her spur height. It's open at the back, seeing as it's mostly attached by a cord going around her neck, and showing a fair amount of shoulder too. There's also some weird mesh design around the waist, for some reason. She actually looks…pretty good. Blue dress goes well with her orange clan markings, anyway.

"She _is_ looking good," Erash whispers to me. I glance over at him, then at Garrus, who's mouth has dropped open slightly.

"I noticed," I whisper back, then raise my head to address Melanis, grinning wide. She'd take the piss out of me if I was in her position, so I may as well return the favour. "Areash! I was beginning to think you'd stood me up!"

"Don't push your luck," she growls, shooting daggers at me as she walks down the stairs. "I am _seriously _not in the mood." She's not wearing heels or anything…though turians already walk on their toes, so I guess there's no reason to.

"I didn't realise you were ever in that kind of mood," I chuckle. "Looking forward to this, then?"

"About as much as I look forward to getting shot at," Melanis sighs, finally reaching the rest of the group. Erash is still staring at her, though Garrus has managed to compose himself. "I still don't see why we have to do it this way. What's wrong with just bursting in and killing this Williams bastard?"

"It's symbolic," I say. "We sneak in right under their noses, kill a valuable asset, show no-one's safe. They might lose even more support that way, if people are scared to work for them."

"And the hotel's heavily guarded tonight," Garrus adds. "Eclipse knows we picked up that dossier, so they'll be on high alert. If we go in like this, though…they'll never see it coming."

"Plus, you get to spend some quality time with me, if the deal needed anymore sweetening." The look Melanis gives me for saying that genuinely makes it feel like my blood is running cold. Oh, it's gonna be one hell of a night…

"We need to get moving," Garrus says, cutting off the little standoff Melanis and I are having. "You two, Mierin, let's go. We'll drop you off in the shuttle."

"Got it," I reply, smiling at Melanis as I get up off the sofa and walk to her side and we start following Garrus. "Nice dress, Mel."

"That'd better not be sarcasm," she mutters, flexing a talon. "Not tonight. I can't believe you put me up to this…"

"You were the one who thought there wasn't a lead here," I point out. "Now that I've proven you wrong, you've got to suck this up. Besides, we've only got to play the happy couple for an hour or so. Then it's back to killing mercs and all."

We're practically at the shuttle by this point, the garage being located really close to the living area. It's a big house, but it's not _that _big. "Who said anything about happy couple?" Melanis asks, and there's actually a humorous edge to her voice as she clambers into the shuttle. Huh…looks like she's not completely lost the whole 'take the piss out of Ian' side of her personality. Though it'd be boring any other way…

"What's wrong?" Melanis asks, sending my metaphorical train of thought hurtling off a cliff as she looks at me standing outside the shuttle. "Did you change your mind?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," I chuckle, clambering in and adjusting my suit jacket as I sit down. For now, Ian Shaw's in the suitcase Mierin's smuggling in. Charles Carmichael's getting ready for a party. "Let's go."

##############

"Did you remember your invite?" I mutter out of the side of my mouth to Melanis, whilst on approach to the Eclipse guards set up outside the hotel. The question makes the turian immediately turn to face me, eyes ablaze.

"I thought _you _had them," she hisses. "This dress doesn't have pockets!"

"Just winding you up," I chuckle, pulling said tickets out of my pocket and handing hers over. That was cheap…but after all the stuff I've gone through in 'training', I'll be damned if I'm not due at least some kind of payback. "You're wound tight, Mel."

"And you're not helping with that, are you?"

"Do you think we should hold hands?" I ask, tactfully ignoring the question as we reach the last few metres to the guards, who just finished checking someone else's invite. She's obviously not going to say yes, but the look on her face is making this a bit too satisfying. Mandibles pressed against her face tightly, predatorial eyes staring at me, and the muscles I can see on her bony figure all tensed up.

"Sure," she nods, grabbing my hand in her talon before I can do anything. Oh, that's nice-

Ow, ow! She's squeezing it! Fuck! Before I can move to try and pry my hand out or anything, we're face to face with an asari who's obviously checking all the guests. I try to change my expression from pained to neutral as I hand over my invite, and Melanis does the same, smiling sweetly at me as she does so. Oh, she's good, I'll give her that…

"Names?" the asari asks. Huh, our names are definitely on the invites. Maybe they're just checking for imposters, since they know we've got the dossier? Though if they are, this is on a par with airport security questions. What kind of assassin forgets their cover name?

"Carmichael," I say, giving her a friendly nod of the head. "Charles Carmichael."

"Areash Xatarian," Melanis says, still squeezing away. Jesus, it's taking a lot of effort not to make any noise…

"Alright, that checks out," the asari nods, sounding _incredibly _bored. Can't blame her. "Sorry. They want everyone checked before entry."

"No problem," I reply, but my voice is definitely strained when I say that. The asari, unfortunately, seems to pick up on it.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Fine," I reply quickly, trying to think of some excuse. "It's just…" I turn to Melanis, grin growing on my face. "It's just we're so excited to be here. Haven't had a nice night out in ages, right, honey?"

Melanis stares at me in what looks like disgust, but the asari's waiting for an answer. She's not going to blow our cover over this. I hope. "Right, _dear_." I can practically feel the venom dripping off her voice with the last word. "It'll certainly be a night to remember."

"Good for you," the asari mutters, with a tone of voice that says 'I don't give a shit'. "Go on in."

"Thanks," I force out, just about keeping my voice level as we walk into the main foyer, and Melanis finally lets go with a laugh. "Wow, are you _trying _to blow our cover?" I ask, shaking my hand vigorously to try and get some feeling back into it. Fuck me, that hurt!

"You're the one who wanted to get cute," she shrugs, as I look around the reception area. Hotels really haven't changed all that much. White coloured walls, with some plants dotted around in the corners, presumably fake. The floor's so shiny it's practically blinding me to look down, but then the same problem applies to the perfect white smile on the human receptionist's face. _No-one _is realistically that happy, especially at work.

Fortunately, the party hall, or 'Eclipse 17th Annual Gala Social Event', is handily signposted down a hall to our left, which music is pulsing out of. "That's convenient," I mutter, indicating to Melanis and heading off to the double doors we're being pointed towards. "Alright. Just stand around and make merry until Mierin gets into position. He shouldn't be more than twenty minutes, half an hour."

"I can do that," she nods.

"Without hurting me?"

"No promises."

I roll my eyes at the smiling turian, then both of us push through the doors simultaneously. Just get along with Melanis for half an hour…simple, right?

############

**Fifteen minutes of awkward silence interspersed with sipping drinks and avoiding eye contact later…**

"So…what's up with the dress?" I ask, giving Melanis a small grin as she reaches over for a drink from a passing asari waitress and sighs. "Come on. If we're going to pose as a couple, I should at least know what I'm supposed to be checking out on you."

"What's up with that thing around your neck?" she shoots back, growling lightly. "Seems perfect for, say, strangling you."

"It's a human thing," I shrug. "This is rather stylish, I'll have you know." I take a look around the place, dancefloor set up in the middle, some light electro pouring through the speakers while people mingle around. There's people from every species here, pretty much. Hell, even a couple of burly looking krogan are wandering around, though they seem a bit out of place. Armed guards are about…and there's a lot of cameras. Still, cameras aren't much good if they don't know what they're looking for. "Loosen up, Mel, it's supposed to be a party. You don't want to ruin our cover by killing me, do you?"

"Killing you would loosen me up," she says, mandibles widening in a grin.

I chuckle sarcastically. We're having so much fun already. And we're arguing just like a real couple! "Ha, that's cute." I pause briefly, then look at her dress again, raising an eyebrow. "You still haven't answered my question about the dress."

The female turian rolls her eyes, obviously giving in. "Just like your neck thing is stylish for humans, this is a typical turian party dress. It accentuates the legs and waist."

"That explains the little mesh thing," I say, glancing at the cut off area around her waist. I guess that's the turian equivalent of cleavage, since they're a bit flat-chested…and I'm staring right at it. I quickly look away, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Even for a couple, staring at her cleavage is probably a wee bit odd. "Well, your waist looks, uh…nice. I think? I can go ask another turian, get a second opinion."

Melanis gives me a funny look, flexing a mandible in confusion. "What do you think?"

"You look good," I nod, genuinely meaning it. The only time I've seen turians before is when they're in combat armour, or in Garrus' case his full body casual wear. Underneath, she doesn't have a particularly bad figure. Even if it's similar to male turians. "Nice to see there's a real turian under that armour. I always thought you'd be made of ice, said so back when we were chasing that red sand dealer. Good job proving me wrong."

"Just like I thought you were made of flab?"

I laugh. "Please, no flab on me. Just rock hard pecs and unbridled machismo." I chuckle again. Over-exaggerating things a bit there, sure, but I'm in a surprisingly good mood. Probably because no-one's trying to kill me. Yet. "See, talking to me isn't so bad, is it?"

"I suppose it is slightly better than being chased by the mercs," Melanis admits. "Slightly."

"That's the spirit," I nod. "Lord and Lady Carmichael, out on a date at the mercs' expense. Instead of shooting at us, they're giving us free food and drink."

Melanis sighs again, looking straight at me with an unimpressed expression. "Where did you come up with that ridiculous name?"

I blush a bit, trying to think of some kind of explanation. Can't explicitly say it's from Chuck, in case she searches it on the extranet, so… "Basically, it's based off this show I used to watch," I explain. "It has a nice ring to it. Charles Carmichael. Proper spy name."

Melanis just shakes her head with a bewildered expression. God, thinking it back, that's a shit explanation… "Well. Okay. Since we're here, I might as well get more to drink."

"Don't get too drunk," I say. "Last thing we need is you ending up like Butler. I'm not gonna carry you around."

"Trust me, I know what I can handle," she chuckles. Hey, a genuine laugh out of her! "You want anything?"

"Tupari," I say immediately. "If they've got it."

Melanis gives me a huge grin, mandibles spreading all the way out. "Sorry, I think they just ran out. But they have water."

"Guess I'm the designated sober, miserable bastard for tonight, then," I mutter jokingly. "Water sounds _great._"

"Oh, cheer up. This is a party, remember?" the turian purrs mockingly. Damn it, I'm the one who's supposed to be winding _her_up, not the other way around!

"Yeah, a party we only turned up at so we could murder someone," I point out. "And with a date that stays two paces away from me all the time. Turians aren't big on intimacy?"

"Not in public. If you haven't noticed, turians tend to be somewhat reserved," Melanis explains impatiently. "And seeing how most turian forms of affection make other species uncomfortable…I think you can understand."

I grin at her. Considering how 'uncomfortable' the training sessions have made me, this seems as good an opportunity as any for payback. "Not sure I do. I mean, we've got a cover to keep up. The mercenaries are going to see right through this whole 'couple' thing if you avoid me like I've got the bloody plague."

Melanis rolls her eyes, taking one reluctant step closer to me. "How's this, lover boy?"

"Better," I chuckle, though I'm still feeling kind of curious about what she said. "What do you mean by turian forms of affection making people uncomfortable? I've seen-" I almost say 'Shepard and Garrus', but I don't want to tell people about that if they don't know already. "I've seen a turian with a human before, and they didn't do anything that freaked me out." Even if Garrus did always seem shy about affection in front of other people.

"Because they were in public," Melanis says. "Turian affection involves a lot of…biting."

"Oh." Biting? I do remember Shepard having a few marks and stuff sometimes, particularly the night after we 'defeated' Saren and Sovereign…but I guessed it was just spur of the moment, rather than being the basis of turian affection. Though they don't have lips, so that does make sense. I chuckle to myself. "Well, maybe we're not that stage of the relationship yet. Don't know about you, that's just my opinion…"

Melanis narrows her eyes in a somewhat sardonic look. "Oh, I don't know…" Before I can even react, she quickly leans forward, biting her jaws down in front of my nose with an audible snapping noise, making me flinch. She leans back, laughing quietly at my reaction. Jesus…

"Yeah, we're definitely not at that stage yet," I say, still feeling a bit shaken. "You bite _that _hard? Seriously? That's not fun."

"Only if I want to," she laughs, grinning evilly at me. "And it'd be fun for me." For some reason, I should probably be feeling freaked out by that…but the look on her face is almost having the opposite effect. Turian intimacy does sound…interesting.

"If that's a proposition, now isn't the time," I say, laughing. "You have an odd idea of fun, you know that?"

"And you don't?"

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean?" I ask, placing my hands on my hips.

"Don't think I've forgotten about I-Spy."

"Oh, don't act like you didn't enjoy it. You know, we can play that now, pass the time…"

Melanis stares at me for a second. "I think I'll pass. Besides, wouldn't it look odd for people at a party to be playing that stupid game?"

"Stupid?" I say, sounding mock-offended. "That's a strong word. And probably accurate." I suddenly grin, looking over to the dancefloor. Ooh, now that's definitely one way to take her out of her comfort zone. "You know what does look odd? The fact we're not dancing."

"You really want to dance?"

The question takes me by surprise. I was expecting her to back out, not go for it. Still, maybe she's bluffing… "I don't see why not," I shrug. "Besides, I've been casing this place for cameras." That's only partially true, but still, plausible excuse. "If we're dancing, it looks way less conspicuous checking out all the angles. And it'll be fun, right?"

The turian pauses for a moment to consider…then, to my amazement, nods. "Sure. Let's see if you can keep up."

I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't realise turians were any good at dancing. Garrus is…well, shit, to be honest."

"And you based your entire perception of our species on a single member?" Melanis asks, grinning. "I'm shocked, Ian. Shocked."

"Well, you didn't strike me as the dancing type," I reply. "More the 'stay at home and clean weaponry' kind of girl."

"Doesn't mean I don't know how to dance," she shrugs. "Better than you, if I had to guess."

"That a challenge?"

"What do you think?"

I roll my eyes. Everything's a competition with her… "You do realise we should dance at least slightly together, right? I'm not throwing down a dance-off when we're supposed to be remaining at least somewhat inconspicuous."

"It's a party!" she says. "We can be dancing together and still make it a challenge."

Huh. My common sense is screaming that this a terrible idea, since I'm not the best dancer in the world…but I'm not gonna roll over and not even try. No way is she getting the satisfaction. "Alright." I grin, shaking my head. "Man, this is dumb."

Melanis returns the grin. "And how is that different from your normal behaviour?"

"Hilarious," I mutter. "You're going down, Mel."

"Bring it on," the female turian growls. I stride off firmly towards the dancefloor, sinking feeling in my gut as I realise she's really not backing out. Outside of Dance Dance Revolution, I'm pretty shit in real life-

"Carmichael?" a voice suddenly asks from behind us, causing both Melanis and I to whirl around…and come face to face with a salarian in casual wear, Eclipse logo proudly emblazoned on the chest and shoulder. "Charles Carmichael?"

Wow, I've been here for about twenty minutes, and my fake self already seems to have a reputation. "Yeah?"

"My name is Darcal," he says, extending a three fingered hand for me to shake.

"Bet you gave your parents hell for that," I chuckle. Darcal's expression suggests he doesn't get the joke.

"I'm going around to check how everyone's doing," he smiles, though the expression is blatantly fake. "Eclipse wants to make sure everyone's having a good time, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Actually, we were about to-" Melanis starts saying.

"Stand around for a bit. We're not doing anything," I say enthusiastically. Darcal might technically be the enemy, but for now, he's my new best friend. "And yeah, we're having a good time. Areash was just saying that."

"Ah, yes, Miss Xatarian," Darcal says, switching his intense attention towards her. "That's an exquisite dress you're wearing." And with that one sentence, he's gone from 'best friend' to 'insufferable slimeball'. The funny thing is, some people really do like this sort of treatment.

Melanis, though, isn't one of them, as her beady eyes narrow at the salarian. "Thanks?"

"You don't see many turian and human couples," Darcal says, prattling on with his small talk regardless. "Though I suppose your research unites you. How is the research going, if I may ask?" _Oh, _I get it. Not only did Eclipse send him over to make guests feel more 'comfortable', but they want to know if our fictional work is going well enough for our fictional contract to continue.

"It's going well," Melanis says immediately, locking eyes with the salarian. "We've been adjusting calculations in an assault rifle, basically attempting to maximise weapon power, whilst keeping the heat and recoil as low as possible." Ha, she's trying to get him away from us by boring him with bullshit…nice. I should help out.

"Weaponry is based on a system of circuits," I explain, just making the words up as I go along. "What we're trying to do is find the shortest route between the circuits utilising Kruskal's Algorithm, which can hopefully get charges around the weapon faster, and therefore-"

Darcal holds up his hands for silence, nodding quickly. "Yes, I understand. Good to see such progress. Now, I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me. Plenty of other people to see, after all…"

"Don't worry about it," I nod. "Nice meeting you."

"Likewise. And the same to you, Miss Xatarian," Darcal simpers. Melanis doesn't even acknowledge him, leading the salarian to hover awkwardly for a few seconds before slowly sliding away.

"We need to get out of here," Melanis mutters. "I can't stand things like this."

"Yeah, that makes two of us," I nod. Normal parties I can handle, but…god, this seems a little over the top. "Nice job getting rid of him."

"Ah, same to you," she shrugs. "How much of that science was real?"

I chuckle. "Made it up, mostly. Kruskal's Algorithm is a real thing, though, if you want me to explain it to-"

"I'll pass," Melanis says, smiling. "Geek." It sounds so odd for a turian to be saying that…but she was brought up on Earth, so it makes sense.

"I prefer 'nerd', actually, it's a bit less derogatory." Suddenly, my omni-tool starts beeping frantically, and I bring up my left wrist to check it out. "What have we here…"

_Package in place._

"Not exactly wasting words, is he?" I say, looking up at Melanis. "Looks like Mierin just made your wish come true. Shall we?"

"Please," Melanis replies, nodding frantically. "Before Darcal comes back." With that, she's already striding towards the exit back into reception, and I set off in a light jog after her. I guess it's time to…

(puts on shades)

Crash the party.

God, that was awful.

#############

"That's everything," Mierin announces proudly, as Melanis and I finish unpacking our stuff from the huge case he managed to carry into the storage room. Obviously the salarian didn't have too much bother taking out a porter, since he's got the full outfit on, including a little hat which looks a whole lot funnier than it should. I'm so unprofessional. "But you might have to get changed in the elevator, since it's going to raise the alarm if you're walking around in full armour."

"Very astute," Melanis deadpans. "I assume you were a detective in C-Sec?"

"Patrol officer, actually, I – oh, you were joking."

"Yeah," the turian says, shaking her head lightly. Getting changed into the armour shouldn't be too bad…the things open at the back and tighten themselves up, so it's not a huge challenge to get changed. Not like getting into a wetsuit. We'd be here for days trying that.

"Well, there's not much else I can do for you," Mierin says, stepping back. "Sorry. Go up there, then get out. We'll send you the shuttle's location."

"Thanks," I nod. "Nice job, man." I swipe up the case containing my armour and stuff, as Melanis does the same. "Did you get Williams' room number?"

"On the top floor. It's the only room up there, practically an apartment, and access from the elevator is locked."

"But probably hackable," I nod. "Alright. We'll let you know when it's done."

"Good luck," Mierin nods. "I'm not really sure what to do with this outfit, though…"

"Keep it as a memento," Melanis shrugs on our way out. "You'll work something out." With that, we start walking towards the elevator on the other side of the corridor, as Melanis shakes her head. "I worry about him sometimes."

"He's good at what he does," I shrug. "Can't blame the guy for being nervous." The elevator's already on the ground floor, and empty. Perfect. I press the button for the highest floor you can access without needing a pass; twenty six. Should give me plenty of time to hack this and get changed.

"Don't look," Melanis mutters, as the doors slide closed and I open up my omni-tool, preparing the hack. Elevator security was never going to be overly sophisticated, so it's not like I'll need any kind of manual input here, since Grundan fitted me out with some godly hacking algorithm a while back.

"Look at what?" I ask, stepping back and opening up the case, smiling to myself upon seeing the dragon emblazoned on the chest. Beats being in a suit…

"Look at me while I'm getting changed," Melanis says impatiently. Oh, yeah, that…

"I won't," I say, trying to sound as reassuring as I can, despite how ridiculous the situation is. "It's not too bad, though. I mean, you're wearing something under that dress." A small silence ensues. "You are, right?"

"Yes, of course," she growls. "That seemed like too much infor – you know what, just shut up, and get changed."

I pull the armour out, quickly unbuttoning the suit jacket and tearing off my tie. Seems like a waste of a suit…but hey, I can always buy a new one. A quick glance at the omni-tool shows the hack almost complete, and we're only on the fifth floor. I don't say it often, but thank Christ for slow elevators. "Right. I'll do that."

Getting down to my boxers only takes an uncomfortable minute, and I swear I can feel Melanis' eyes burning into my back as I do it, but no way am I turning around to check. From there, it's a simple matter of sliding my arms and legs into the suit, feeling the soft underlay automatically fit itself firmly against my skin and seal up around my back and neck. By this point, the hack is comfortably finished, letting me set us to go to the top floor…and lock the elevator doors to anyone on the outside. My helmet slides up and over the face, low hum as it activates bringing a childish smile to my face while I holster my pistol and knife. "Am I good to turn around again?" I ask.

"I'm changed," Melanis replies, and I turn to see her in the normal crimson coloured armour, helmet disgusing whatever expression she's got on at the moment. Probably distaste. It was nice seeing her with the dress on, though. Welcome reminder that she's actually a person, even if she likes hiding it. "Damn it, we're only on floor twenty. Where did Mierin say he was?"

"Top floor, twenty five," I reply. I shift awkwardly from foot to foot for a few seconds, as Melanis does the same. "You know, I could hum lift music, fill the silence."

"Please don't."

"Right, right."

Another pause.

"Were you seriously not wearing anything under that dress? I mean, just the way you paused, I'm-"

"I'm calculating it's going to take us another minute to reach Williams' floor," Melanis growls. "That's more than enough time for me to kill you."

The minute passes by without any further conversation, and I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief once the elevator doors finally spring open. Man, you could cut the tension with a knife around here…hopefully, killing a weapon smuggler should help ease that away. There's two doors to Williams' room in the corridor, one in front of us, then one located a bit further to our left, with a fire escape illuminating the far end. May as well just take the door right in front of our faces…

"I've got this," Melanis mutter, slipping past me and opening up her omni-tool.

"Not your first time hacking into hotel rooms?" I ask, smiling to myself as I stand behind her, cautiously drawing my pistol.

"Not my first time assassinating the person in them, either," she replies.

"I didn't know you were such an expert."

"Shaw," she sighs, as the door lock turns green, "you could write a book with all the things you don't know about me."

"I don't think it would sell very well," I point out. The turian just sighs, then presses her talon against the door panel. Just like that, my focus slides onto the mission, the same time as the door slides open itself. Jokes are done. For now, we've got a job to do. The door opens into a living room, sofas and tables laid out all over the place, in particular one large coffee table placed parallel to the door in the centre of a ring of sofas. There's an open plan kitchen to our right, but more curiously, the archway leading into the room ahead has a dim glow of light.

"He must be further in," Melanis whispers, despite our helmets blocking any exterior noise. "Keep your guard up." I tread carefully on the balls of my feet, keeping the pistol primed and ready as we pad across the carpet. Carpet. Heh, haven't seen one of these in a while…guess it's a luxury for the rich, rather than the usual plastic style flooring.

The next room seems to be some manner of study, with a desk and terminal set up in the corner, a couple of chairs, and a few bookcases dotted about. However, the light shiningly through a crack in the door attached to the left wall of the room does pique my interest, and from the looks of things, it's got Melanis' as well. There's also a faint giggling sound coming from it, as well as the more husky laugh of a human male's voice. Ooh, God, bad time…

Unable to shake the feeling it's slightly perverted, I press my back against the wall and peer through the crack in the door. My first instinct is to immediately recoil, not even fully taking in the scene, but a small hissing noise from Melanis steels my resolve. The things I do for the mission…

Wincing to myself, I peer back in again. This is obviously the bedroom, due to the massive bed in the middle of the room…with Gus Williams himself on it. Half naked Gus Williams. With an almost totally naked asari sitting on the bed next to him. Jesus, that dossier wasn't lying…Eclipse probably put this whole thing on for him. I hope for that asari's sake she's getting paid a _lot _for this. There's another door leading into the room from the left, presumably connecting to the left hand side of the apartment that we haven't explored yet. No matter. Target's right there.

"He's in there with an asari," I mutter to Melanis. "How do you want to do this? Burst him and shoot him?"

"I didn't realise we had any other options," the turian shoots back. "There's only so many ways you can go about killing someone in a hotel room, you know."

"Sorry, this is only my first time doing this," I hiss back sarcastically, leaning back to the door with my pistol raised. Alright, here goes –

"I'll be back in a minute, Gus," the asari suddenly purrs, getting up from the side of the bed and making me duck back to the wall. "Don't go anywhere."

"Oh, I ain't making a damn move," the human chuckles, with what sounds like a light Southern accent. Southern USA, I mean, not UK. That asari's coming through…the door opens before either Melanis or I can react, but the asari doesn't even look around as she strolls into the room, and towards the bag laid on one of the chairs. Shit, she's going to turn around and see us any minute –

With a sudden smile, the asari reaches into the bag…and draws out a long, serrated knife. Uh…what? "You know," I say quietly, raising my pistol, "I don't think that's going to be used for pleasure."

"I'm getting that feeling myself," Melanis says, bringing hers up to aim too. Just as the asari turns around.

What happens next is over in a flash. I feel myself being lifted into the air, surrounded by a blue biotic aura, then hurled across the room as Melanis fires two shots. I collide into the wall with a huge crash, yelling out as my back impacts and I drop down to one knee, my shout mingling with that of the asari as she goes down with a bullet in her stomach, followed almost immediately by one to the head.

"You alright?" Melanis shouts. I groan, clambering back up to my feet. If that asari had a knife…shit, I don't think this is a clear cut as we initially thought.

"I'm fine!" I reply. "Check for Williams!" Damn it, I hate biotics! Melanis kicks through the door into Williams' room, as I rush in behind her…to see he's gone, and the second door into the room is now wide open. "Shit, bastard's done a runner."

"He's a fat human!" Melanis reples, as we rush back out of the room and towards the front door. "We can easily catch him-shit, watch out!" The door suddenly bursts open…and it's the two krogan I saw downstairs earlier. Except this time, they're in armour. And packing shotguns.

"It's Williams' security squad!" one of them yells. Crap, we've got nowhere to run except forward…so I do so, kicking over the coffee table and hurling myself behind it as a shotgun blast whistles over my head. Melanis flings herself prone too, then suddenly grabs one table leg, hoisting it up with one arm.

"Follow my lead!" she shouts.

"What lead?" I grab my own table leg, lifting it as I hear the shotguns being cocked for a second set of blasts.

"Charge them!" With that, Melanis scrambles to her feet, almost leaving me behind as we both dash into the krogan…and flatten them into the wall with the table, blood smear splattering over the white wallpaper as they slide down to seated positions.

"Table for two, fuckers!" I gasp in air, just managing a smirk as I indulge in a brief stare at our KOd opponents. "Sorry. Couldn't help it."

"I hate you," Melanis replies, gasping from effort, as she jumps over the table and out the front door as I follow behind…just as the elevator dings, and two humans in Blue Suns armour step out, adjusting their helmets. There's a pause for a second as we both take in what's happening, but Melanis and I seize the initiative straight away. I kick the guy on the left in the chest, reaching for my knife as he staggers back, while Melanis simply rams a talon underneath her target's helmet and rips it clean off.

I take quick steps towards the merc, knife now firmly in hand, and swing a little too wildly at his neck where the armour is weakest. He dodges back, then lunges with his own left hook. He's obviously still dazed from the kick I gave him, though, since the punch misses, and gives me enough of an opening to close the distance and drive the knife up, through and out his throat in one smooth motion. He falls back, clutching at the wounded area as Melanis just knocks her guy out with a haymaker.

"What the fuck is going on?" I ask out loud, as we both look down the corridor, and to the now open fire escape door. Shit, Williams' must've gone this way! Melanis and I both sprint towards it, breath already ragged from our exertions. It only takes a few seconds to reach, then we slide to a halt at the top of the thing, staring down at the streets below.

No sign of him.

Fuck. Melanis pounds a fist onto the fire escape's railing next to me as I quickly place a call to Garrus. Unbefreakinglievable. I cannot believe Butler actually called this shit, too…

"_Is __he __dead?__" _Garrus asks simply, on receiving the call. Ooh, this is gonna be embarrassing.

"Yeah…it didn't really work out," I reply, wincing at the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

"_He's one man in a hotel! You had him cornered! What happened?"_

"You see," I say, glancing back down the corridor at the corpses of the Blue Suns mercs. "Here's the thing. I don't think we're the only ones who want Gus Williams dead."

**A/N: Of _course _it wouldn't be that easy, ha. Seems Mr. Williams has a lot of unwanted attention…and we'll be looking at why that is rather shortly. Told you it'd be a more interesting case.**

**Thanks to TheRev28 for giving me a hand with some of Melanis' dialogue in the middle there.**

**Hopefully you found the first part of the chapter entertaining as well, since it was more of a comedy section (so hopefully that worked). Consider the bumper chapter something of an apology for it taking so long, real life is really busy at the moment. **

**Anyway, next chapter, more character interactions, more investigating Williams, and who knows? Maybe the first steps towards recruiting another squad member…**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you next time!**


	24. Ian vs The Bag

Chapter 24

Brandon Flowers: Crossfire

"Son of a bitch," Melanis hisses, as I finally finish up the call with Garrus and turn to look at her, staring out over the fire escape's railing. "Where did they even come from?"

"The elevator, if I had to hazard a guess," I mutter idly, glancing at the small dent Melanis has left from punching the railing. _Damn, _she's pissed…and the growl that escapes her suggests my comment isn't helping. I'm too dumbfounded by what happened to care, though. So much for an easy kill.

"At first it was us, Williams and an asari hooker," the female turian says, turning around and running a taloned hand over the top of her helmet. "Then we've got her pulling a knife and krogan kicking down the door."

"Don't forget the Blue Suns guys bursting out to kill us as well," I point out, looking down the corridor at the corpses of said mercenaries. "I'm not sure why they'd want Williams dead, though."

Melanis shrugs, breathing in and out deeply a few times, presumably to calm herself. It beats her taking frustration out on me, anyway… "You saw the dossier. Eclipse values him. It doesn't take a huge leap of the imagination to see that they'd want him out of the picture for the same reason we do."

"I guess so," I nod, staring down the corridor as I feel my brow furrow of its own accord. Something seems off about this whole thing. Sure, Melanis' theory about the Suns makes sense. I thought Eclipse was concerned about Williams' security, though. It'd make our jobs easier if they _were _total idiots, but unfortunately there's a few brain cells between all the mercs. Letting an asari assassin get into his room with weaponry in her bag? Actually, why weren't there any guards posted on Williams' door? For someone Eclipse wants to protect, they've really not put in a lot of effort…

"Come on," Melanis says, tapping me on the shoulder. "We should get back to base, see if we can figure out what Williams' next move might be."

I hold up a hand, not even turning to look at her as I move back into the corridor. "No, no, hold up," I say, beginning to click my fingers as things start to fall into place. "This isn't right. It doesn't add up."

Melanis folds her arms, body language suggesting she isn't impressed. "We tried to kill him, some other people showed up and they tried to kill him. That adds up pretty clearly to me. Eclipse are going to be pulling him back to safety really soon, and we need to be there when they do!"

"See, I'm not so sure they will," I reply, shaking my head. "Think about it. There's no guards up here, and the asari they presumably arranged for Williams happens to be an assassin? Come on, now. Either Eclipse are being really half-arsed about this, which isn't like them at all, or -"

"They want him dead," the turian finishes for me.

"Bingo," I grin.

"But that doesn't make sense," she says. "He's one of their biggest arms smugglers. Why would they want to kill him?"

"Dunno yet. But it doesn't hurt to dig around the room to find something, does it?"

"Only hurts if all the mercs aren't dead. I don't want a repeat of what just happened."

I step back into the corridor, nodding. That fight was too intense to try twice… "Well, that makes two of us." We walk towards the room, when a thought suddenly hits me. "You know, those two krogan? I saw them earlier in the party."

"And that didn't concern you?" Melanis asks. "Didn't prompt any comment?"

What the hell? "How the fuck was I supposed to know they were assassins?" I ask rhetorically. "Krogan like parties too! It was a bit late to comment on the coincidence when they started firing shotguns at us."

"And speaking of comments," the turian says, completely ignoring my statement, "I haven't forgiven you for that horrid one-liner."

"That's one of my better lines, actually," I chuckle, stepping back into the hotel room. "You should hear a bad one."

Melanis shudders next to me. "If that was a good one, I don't think I could stand a bad one."

"Then you probably shouldn't come on missions with me." I point to the Blue Suns guys outside of the room, my mind slipping back onto the investigation. Old habits die hard… "Right. We know the Suns wanted a piece of Williams. What about the krogan?"

"We might as well check everyone," Melanis shrugs. "They all seemed to think we were Williams' security. I can only assume they were all here to kill him."

"Good job, Mel," I mutter sardonically. "We could've done with you at C-Sec." I head over to one of the krogan, still slumped below the bloodstain on the wall. Damn, we messed these guys up good… "Alright, maybe they'll have something on them." I touch one of the krogan lightly on the side of the face, checking for any unusual marks or tattoos.

When his eyes flash open, and a low growl escapes his throat.

Ah, shit shit shit! I immediately jump back two paces, drawing my pistol at the same time and putting three silenced rounds through his head in under a second. A small death gurgle escapes the krogan, and he goes limp against the wall. Jesus, that made my chest hurt…

"And that's why you always shoot the krogan first," Melanis says drolly. "You can never trust those bastards to actually stay dead."

"Good advice," I gasp, holstering the pistol. "God, that scared the shit out of me…" I take a look at the side of krogan's neck, to see an all too familiar insignia staring back at me. Blood Pack logo. Nice. "Hey, Mel, check this out."

The turian walks over to my side, staring down at the tattoo…then sighs. "Why am I not surprised? So, that's the Blue Suns _and _the Blood Pack after Williams. Wouldn't it just be perfect if the asari was Eclipse?"

"And we score the trifecta," I chuckle, heading over to the asari's bag. Come on, girl, have the hook-up…grabbing it by the bottom, I flip it over, emptying the contents out onto the ground. And what contents there are. A shuttle ticket, various other knives and a handgun, plus what looks like an Eclipse ID. I can't help but laughing, as I look down at the pile. This is bloody perfect… "Now, I don't know much about hookers, but does this seem normal to you?"

Melanis lets out another sigh, as she starts picking through the pile. "Wonderful. It turns out they're all after him. This doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, Williams is a guy after our own hearts," I chuckle. "I thought pissing off the merc groups was our thing."

"If he wasn't a fat bastard that can't be trusted, I'd almost say let's recruit him."

I laugh properly at that, grinning under the helmet. She can be funny when she wants to be… "Not a bad idea. We still don't know what he's done, but hey, a bit of investigating doesn't hurt, does it?" I reach over and give Melanis a friendly pat on the back. "I'll make a detective out of you yet."

Melanis lets out a low growl as I remove my hand from her back. "You want to keep that hand?"

Oh, whoops. "Ideally, yeah. Sorry for the encouragement."

The turian chuckles, shaking her head. "Let's just get the evidence and get out of here. I'm feeling a sudden desire to hurt something." Her visor looks pointedly at me.

"You were so much nicer in the dress, you know that?" I say, as I start packing the stuff back into the bag. "I swear, that armour makes you more aggressive."

"And yours makes you more prone to idiocy and annoyance."

"I like to think I was pretty annoying in the suit." That gets yet another growl out of her. "And idiocy? Coming from the person who was going to leave all this evidence behind?"

Melanis stares at me for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "Yes. Now grab it and let's go."

"Got it." I grin under the helmet. I dunno why…but I kind of feel like pushing my luck as far as it can go. "Guess you're out of your depth with detective work for a change, right? Not much killing, maiming." I scratch the side of my neck awkwardly. "You know, all that fun."

"Yes, Ian, I'm out of my depth," she replies sardonically. "Just like you are whenever we're trying to infiltrate somewhere. And when a sniper is needed. Or a medic. Or an armourer, hacker, pilot or leader. Nice try, Ian, but you're playing with fire here."

"Hey." I pause, trying to think of a good comeback. "I'm a good sniper."

"So glad to hear it. Now let's see you beat Erash."

I frown, sighing as I heft the bag over my shoulder. "You don't have to be a bitch about it, Mel."

"Oh," she chuckles, "but it's so much fun taking you down a peg."

I brush past her on the way out of the hotel room, unable to help smiling to myself. I just can't beat her, can I? "I don't think I'm the only one who needs that…"

"Garrus is probably ready to come looking for us," Melanis says, obviously choosing to ignore my last comment. Ha, at least that's some small victory. "Let's go, before any more Eclipse show up."

"Alright," I nod, raising my omni-tool to call Garrus. Now we've got the evidence, the sooner we get out of here, the better. Last thing we need is a whole hotel filled with mercenaries trying to kill us. "You there?"

"_What __is __it?__" _Garrus response immediately, sounding pissed. Then again, we did just lose a valuable target, so I suppose it's justified. _"__I __thought __you __were __on __your __way __out?__"_

"Melanis and I did some digging around the hotel room. You know how I said we weren't the only ones trying to kill Williams?"

"_Yes?" _

"We've got it narrowed down. Seems all the merc groups want a piece of Williams."

There's a momentary pause on the end of the line. _"__Even __Eclipse?__"_

"Looks like it."

"_That __doesn__'__t __make __sense,__" _Garrus mutters, and I can imagine the look on his face as he's thinking about this. Mandibles widened, staring at the ground, eyes narrowed as he tries to piece everything together. Saw that face plenty of times at C-Sec.

"You're telling me," I chuckle, as Melanis and I begin descending the fire escape. "But we've got evidence."

"_And no motive."_

"All in good time," I reply. "Can you get onto Laet and the others back at the base? See if they can run through that dossier again, pick up on anything we've missed. If there's motive, it'll be in there somewhere."

"_I __was __thinking __the __exact __same __thing,__" _he says. _"__Seems l__ike __Williams __managed __to __cross __the __wrong __people. __Interesting__…"_

"Tell me about it. For everyone to be this interested in him, I don't think we're seeing the full picture." Melanis suddenly nudges me on the shoulder, pointing across the street as we finally drop down to ground level. We'll probably have to make a run for the shuttle and hope we don't get spotted…so being on the phone probably won't help. "We're on our way back to you, so I've gotta go."

"_I__'__ll __call __Laet,__" _the turian says, his previously pissed off tone replaced with a more confident one now that we've got a lead. _"__If __Williams __has __left __us __a __trail, __we__'__re __going __to __find __it.__"_

"Got that right," I chuckle, hanging up the line. All the security seems to be focused inside the hotel, meaning Melanis and I should have a clear run for the shuttle. Well, that makes a change.

"Ready?" she asks.

"Yep." I adjust the bag on my shoulder, getting ready to make a move. I should probably be annoyed at Williams escaping…but for some reason, with the plot thickening like this, it almost seems like a positive thing. Whatever reasons the mercs have for wanting him dead are certainly making me curious. "Lead the way."

##########

"Wait wait wait, _Eclipse _tried to kill him?" Mierin asks incredulously, as the whole squad gathers onto the sofas set out in the living quarters, except for Laet, who's running through that list of planets again. I've changed out of my armour and into the usual t-shirt and jeans, but unfortunately, Melanis has kept hers on instead of the dress. Shame. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Can people please stop saying that?" I ask, stepping forward and dumping the content of the asari's bag onto the middle of the table. "It doesn't make sense because we haven't found all the pieces yet. But the assassin we found in his hotel room had Eclipse identification, and more than enough weaponry for her job to be obvious. It may not add up so far, but Eclipse definitely wanted him dead, like it or not."

"They could have just shot him in the head as soon as he set foot on Omega if they'd wanted that," Sidonis points out, even going as far as to mime the action of a trigger being pulled. "Why bother bringing him to a hotel to do the job?"

Hmm, not a bad question. Taking him out sooner rather than later would've been easier, that's for sure, so something must've made them want to hold back. "What were the other mercenaries doing there?" Monteague asks. "The Blood Pack, and the Blue Suns?"

Ah, that's an easy one. "If I had to guess, probably the same reason we were. He's a valued Eclipse asset, they stand to gain as much from his death as we did."

"Did," Erash points out. "The emphasis on past tense is particularly important. This new evidence would suggest Gus Williams isn't such a valuable asset after all. Though perhaps they were under the same impression as we were."

"I don't even see how this is our problem anymore," Melanis says bluntly, making me turn and gawp at her. "I'm sorry, it isn't. Leave the mercenaries to kill each other over this, it doesn't concern us." I can see Garrus rummaging through the contents of the asari's bag, as Butler pipes up.

"Melanis has got a point, Shaw. We're no' doing any good helping the mercs out. Just let the bastards trip over themselves trying to kill Williams."

"There's a shuttle ticket off Omega in here," Garrus suddenly announces, standing up to face the group as he holds said ticket in his left hand. "Now, why would she be carrying this with her? It's dated for today, and the shuttle left an hour after we were at the hotel." He pauses for a second, then starts nodding his head slowly, mandibles widening in a smile. "Eclipse wanted Gus Williams dead. But they didn't want anyone to know they killed him."

"So what?" at least three squad members ask. I think I can see what Garrus might be getting at here, though…

"Well, if he'd wronged them, you think they'd want to make an example of him, right?" Mierin says, making all the heads in the room turn to look at me. I look over to Garrus, praying he hasn't ballsed this up and made an arse of himself. "Is that what you were getting at?" The turian gives the salarian a simple nod, still smiling to himself. Heh, nice job, Mierin…especially for a patrol guy. That one deduction there was better than what a few detectives I know could have come up with. "Instead of hanging him out to dry, they try to kill him in a hotel by using an assassin who's supposed to be disappearing straight afterwards. Whatever Williams did to piss them off, they don't want the news he did it getting out."

"It would send out a bad message, too," I suggest. "If they suddenly start offing people who're supposed to work for them, it'll probably make some people think taking an Eclipse contract is a bad move. They were serious about keeping this hidden."

"They certainly were!" Laet announces from across the room, striding in with a huge grin on his face. "Though, I can't say I blame them. This Williams guy is one crazy, crazy bastard."

"How so?" I ask. Given the triumphant look on Laet's face, I'm guessing he's pulled something good from that dossier. Which means we'll have to sit through a good few minutes lording it over us…

"Well," Laet says, pausing for dramatic effect as he pulls in a deep breath. Oh, I knew it. He barely ever gets the limelight, considering he's the armourer, so when he does he milks it for everything it's worth. We'd all get him to stop if it wasn't so funny. "I was looking through the dossier, as you asked. Now, utilising my incredible perception and general talent, I checked that planet list again on a hunch. It was difficult work. There was times where I felt like giving up, like all hope had been lost, like -"

"Laet," Melanis suddenly snaps, standing up and towering over the other turian, "get to the fucking point."

"If you'd let me finish," he says, taking a step back to a round of chuckles from around the group. Melanis releases a low growl, but steps off. "The first time we checked the planet list, we only searched for connections with Eclipse. But get this. More than three quarters of the planets he visited also had Blue Suns or Blood Pack bases on them."

"There's our missing link," I grin. "I hate to boost your ego, Laet, but nice job."

Weaver clears his throat from his seat, looking significantly less jovial than I am about the news. "It links the merc groups. But it doesn't explain why they want him dead. Or why we should even care at this point."

"Oh, that's because you haven't even heard the best part of it yet," Laet interrupts. "Mercenary reports come from all over the galaxy, all the time. Most of the stuff they don't even bother to encrypt, if it's not important, so we can intercept it. We don't have time to look through it all at once, but I picked through some that had come off the planets on the dossier, from all the mercenary groups. Long story short, the reports show that Blue Suns and the Blood Pack have both employed Gus Williams at least once."

"They're killing the traitor to their cause?" Sidonis suggests. God, he's the last person who should talk about 'killing traitors', especially when Garrus is around. "If he can't work for their group, he can't work for anyone. That sounds like their style."

"Nice try, Sidonis," Laet chuckles, shaking his head, "but no. See, the bases from all the planets Williams delivered to recently have all been reporting inconsistencies in the quantity of weapons they were expecting, and the amount they were receiving."

With that last sentence, suddenly it clicks. Inconsistencies. Has Williams been _stealing _from the three major mercenary groups? He's either incredibly stupid, or damn, does he have balls of steel. "How long has he been doing it for?" Monteague asks, looking as surprised as I feel. The sheer nerve of this guy is incredible, I'll give him props for that.

"He's been really careful about it," Laet explains. "He doesn't take much from individual orders, so the mercs on the individual planets will just put it down to error. The accountants the merc groups hire must do a check every few months or so, though. This only came up last week. Eclipse worked it out a week ago, first signs the Blue Suns knew what was going on came three days ago. Blood Pack only found out yesterday."

"I still don't see why this means we need to go after him," Melanis mutters.

"That's because you don't know what the stakes are," Laet says happily. "You see, the mercenaries want to kill him for revenge. But there's also…well, a cash incentive. He stole from each group, and sold the surplus on. Whoever catches him first, well, they can recoup what he owes them. Along with the money he owes the other two groups. Which, according to mercenary chatter, comes to a casual two million credits."

"Two million credits?" Garrus asks immediately, head snapping up to look at Laet. "Are you sure?"

"That's the conservative estimate," Laet shrugs. "Some of the mercs seem to think it's more like three. He hasn't been stealing from them for _that_ long, though. A few months are enough to get two million."

I nod my head, thinking back to the C-Sec black market. "Guns are good money for criminals. You can sell them at a high price illegally, especially if they're good quality. A lot of black market guns would just blow up in your hand when you pulled the trigger, so people value a good product."

"I cannae see the mercenaries getting bad equipment," Butler says. "They tooled us up pretty well when I was with the Suns."

"Two million credits," Garrus says, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. "We could take it away from under all the merc groups noses. That way, none of them get the money. We'd be taking it from all three of them."

"And we have to bankroll this operation somehow," Sidonis points out.

"Hey, with two million, we could retire from this life of vigilante justice altogether," I chuckle, which promptly stops with the look Garrus gives me. "Joke, joke…so, Melanis." I turn to the female turian. "Have we finally convinced you Williams is still a target?"

Melanis rolls her eyes at me, but it's in a good humoured way, as she nods her head. "Two million credits of mercenary money is hard to argue with." She definitely has that right. Taking their money like that is one hell of a blow, it's an embarrassment, and it also means any money woes the squad's having aren't an issue anymore. One fat guy managed to lead a race between all the merc groups, and now we're joining in on the back of it too. First one to pull the trigger bags the cash. It sounds like some awfully macabre gameshow.

"Do you know where to find Williams?" Weaver asks Laet, a touch sarcastically. "You seem to know just about everything else."

"Unfortunately, that proved beyond me," Laet replies, slamming down onto the sofa next to me, his job done. "See, Ian, I was wasted as an armour merchant. I should've been your partner at C-Sec, not Garrus."

"That would've made things more interesting," I chuckle. Instead of having to deal with Garrus' brash tendencies, instead I'd have Laet wisecracking his way through everything and trying to take all the glory he could. Huh. Now that I think about it, that sounds like really good fun. "Williams is going to have worked out people want him dead now, though. And when he's in as deep as that, he'll assume the worst. Figure everyone's come to call in what he owes."

"And we need to find him before the mercenaries do," Garrus nods, jumping back into the role of leader. "The mercs will be watching all the spaceports for him trying to escape, so that saves us a job. He's trapped on Omega. But the mercs have more people than us, they have more intelligence than us, and they've all had a past with Williams."

"Christ, Garrus, you dinnae need to make it sound so upbeat," Butler mutters, causing Garrus to bark out a sharp laugh as he looks over at the Scotsman.

"I doubt the mercenaries are going to share their intelligence with us," he continues. "So, we need to take it from them. Forcibly. They might know some of his safehouses, regular haunts, places like that. The dossier they created was short. I can almost guarantee they'll have more than just that on him."

Erash takes a turn to speak up. "Surely the mercenaries will already be out in full force to intercept Williams?"

"Probably," Garrus shrugs. "We'd better move quickly, then." Oh, I like his style. Odds are stacked against us, but we're gonna give it a damn good shot anyway. Which is like every situation we get into, actually. "Eclipse worked with him last, they'll have the best information. We need to target one of their bases, get all the information we can, then head after Williams. As soon as possible."

"Let me guess," Melanis says, folding her arms. "Infiltration mission?" Garrus nods his head. "Oh, _good._"

"Another mission together," I chuckle, looking over at the female turian. "High five?" I raise a hand…and she leaves me hanging, not even looking over. Aww.

"Grundan, we'll need you for tech," Garrus announces, causing the batarian to just grunt in response. "And I'm coming too. I want to make sure this one goes smoothly." Hey, was that a little dig at the party mission? Nah, Garrus wouldn't do that… "I'll find the best base to target, but be ready to move out as soon as I do. Ian, Melanis, Grundan, get your gear together."

"Right," I nod, rising to my feet along with the rest of the squad, as we all begin to disperse whilst Garrus heads to the terminal in Laet's room. I walk towards the equipment lockers, expecting to see Melanis…but instead I make contact with Grundan Krul's four eyes, rather than the turian I was expecting. Damn, she must've gone back to her room! And I can't look away without saying at least _something__…_

"This Williams guy has a lot of nerve, doesn't he?" I ask. Generic comment, but should be enough to spark a conversation. Even if Grundan and I have barely said a word to each other since the start of this thing.

The batarian just shrugs. "He's stupid. Fat human who thinks he can take on the merc groups. About as headstrong as the rest of your kind."

"Nice," I reply sarcastically. Normally I tread carefully around the batarian, but his whole 'I'm so fucking depressed/angry' spiel is wearing thin. "First sentence you say to me is incredibly racist. At least you don't bother to hide it, though that's not really something to credit you for." Grundan just stays in stubborn silence as he starts rummaging through his locker. "Why do you hate me so much, Grundan?" Again, nothing. "Or do you just hate everyone? I mean, the way you went ape-shit on Mirki'it -"

What happens next goes very, very quickly. One second I'm looking at my locker, the next Grundan's grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pins me up against the wall, four eyes burning into mine. "That's my business. Mirki'it was a piece of shit, but humans are just as bad."

"Maybe you're not giving us a chance," I say, trying to tilt my head away from him. Not so easy when there's a wall connected to the back of your skull.

"Humans took their chance with me already," he snarls, then lets go, picking the last piece of armour out of his locker. "You've been watching me ever since Mirki'it. Don't. You keep to yourself, I keep to myself, everyone's happy. Got it?" The way he says that last part shows it's _definitely _not a question.

"I got it," I nod, feeling around my throat lightly with my fingers. If he'd wanted to hurt me there, he really could've…but he held back. Hmm. Grundan doesn't dignify my words with any kind of response, instead storming off with his armour. Shaking my head, I reach into my own locker, grabbing weapons and armour. Well, at least I got him to talk. That's something, right? We can work on social skills later.

Sighing, I turn around, looking out of the window located all the way across the room at the vast, red expanse stretching out before me. Somewhere in this massive place, with mercenaries scouring it to get there before us, we have to find a small, fat man worth two million credits. That's definitely got to be one of the most surreal mission objectives I've ever had.

Here it goes, though. The most high stakes game of hide and seek ever played. Four seekers, one man hiding, one city, and two million credits up for grabs.

Game on.

**A/N: Well, that lays out what's going on with our man Williams. Conning all three major merc groups, and annoying Aria…what an idiot, haha. **

**Plus, next chapter, we _should _get the first hints of the new squad member. Definitely the one after that, anyway. I'm really looking forward to the reveal for it.**

**Again, special thanks to TheRev28, who's being a massive help with Melanis in this. **

**Oh, and I've got a poll on my profile page, if you want to check that out.**

**Not much else to say. Sorry it took a week again, school continues to kick my ass on a regular basis. Two essays on British History circa 1906 to 1911, a ton of Further Maths, and some Economics on top. Good thing I like History and Economics…**

**Thanks for reviewing, reading, favouriting, and generally supporting the story so far. Cheers, everyone.**

**See you next chapter!**


	25. Ian vs The Cupboard

Chapter 25

Anamanaguchi: Airbrushed

"Did you really have to pick this base?" I mutter to Garrus, as the four of us on the team jog stealthily towards the perimeter wall of the Eclipse base. It's certainly one hell of a place. Wall looks about three meters high, and then there's a whole floodlit area surrounding the facility itself. After that, a maze of corridors and rooms, half of which are mercenary accommodation. Fortunately, the half we need for information on Williams is the administrative bit, which should be empty at this time. In theory. Still, the place is absolutely crawling with guards. Though with all the attacks we've carried out, I guess we've only got ourselves to blame.

"What's wrong with this one?" Garrus asks, as we flatten ourselves against the exterior wall, blending into the shadows. This is our entrance point; a corner the floodlights don't really cover. Bastards are using electrified wire on top of the wall, which seems a little archaic, but nothing some insulated armour and wire cutters can't fix. They're more for show, anyway, just in case the enormous wall and Eclipse logo emblazoned on the front gate weren't intimidating enough.

"I'm just saying, you _would _pick the base absolutely covered with mercenaries," I reply, giving my pistol and silencer one last check before slipping it back into the holster.

"Gives me some target practice," Garrus shrugs, making me roll my eyes behind the helmet.

"Look, I know stealth isn't really your thing, but try to stay hidden, alright? As much as I'd enjoy a fight with some mercs, this isn't the time or the place. Not with these odds," I explain, taking a nervous glance down towards the main gate. We're in the mercs' eyeline, but the shadows are keeping us concealed nicely.

The male turian chuckles to himself, punching me lightly on the arm. "Oh, I don't know. I think I could take them." His visor tilts towards Melanis. "Aren't you supposed to be giving him a speech like that, rather than him to me?"

"You're right," Melanis nods. "Ian, don't fuck this up."

"Yes, darling."

The female turian growls. "The party's finished. Stop calling me that."

"Can we get over this wall?" Grundan butts in. "I'm sick of standing around doing fuck all here."

"When you ask like that, how could we refuse?" I say sarcastically, indicating over to the wall. I get the horrible feeling Grundan's glaring at me, but fortunately, I can't see his expression behind his helmet. "No chance we can use the grav clips?" Melanis shakes her head at me. It makes sense, though, since the wall is electrified. The suits are insulated, but sticking something like the grav clips on the outside means we'd get a shock. So, gotta do it the old fashioned way… "Garrus, you're probably better to give Mel a boost up there than I am."

"That's something we can all agree on, at least," he nods, stepping over to the wall and linking his talons together for Mel to step on. "Come on." The female turian quickly steps up, causing Garrus' knees to bend a fraction as he grunts with effort and lifts her up. Still not far enough for her to reach.

"I'm going to have to step on your shoulders," Melanis says quickly, moving one foot up before Garrus can say anything back. His effort grunts get even louder at that, and Melanis edges closer and closer to the wall.

"Any…day…now…" he manages to force out, the words obviously a strain.

"Keep me steady," Melanis replies, talons scraping the edge of the wall, as she suddenly hops off and hangs from her talons, scrabbling her feet up into a more comfortable position. "Got to say, I thought you were stronger than that."

"Just glad you made it up," I say, as Melanis reaches for her wire cutters and gets to work on the barbed wire. "Would've been embarrassing if the mercs had caught us standing on each other's shoulders."

"It'll be embarrassing if they catch us at all," Melanis shoots back, finally getting through the wire and hoisting herself up. "Not that it ever seems to concern you, Ian."

"Ha, that's cute…"

Garrus clears his throat to get everyone's attention. "Let's keep moving. The mercs are getting closer to Williams every second we waste. Grundan, get up there." The batarian doesn't need to be told twice, running forward, jumping up and grabbing Melanis' hand to be pulled up and over. Garrus quickly follows suit, and I bring up the back of the group, planting my foot on the wall and leaping up, feeling Melanis' hand wrap around my wrist in a comfortingly strong grip.

"Thanks for the lift," I say, grinning at the sigh she lets out as I drop from the wall and forward roll to soften the impact. Alright, area ahead is mostly lit up, but we already checked the building plan of this place before we left and there's a back door we should be able to sneak through. Leads straight into the admin area, no worries about running into the mercenary living quarters. No worries in theory, anyway.

"Let's move, quick," Melanis barks, pushing me on the shoulder after she drops off the wall. "We've got an opening." She's right, too. Long shadowed area leads virtually to the door we need…except for a ten metre stretch where the ground's lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. Unfortunately, Eclipse has a couple of snipers patrolling the roof, meaning our chances of getting in unnoticed are about as good as me getting a Tupari any time soon.

Garrus planned for this eventuality, though, as the two of us draw our sniper rifles. Silenced sniper rifles. The range goes down significantly, but we're close enough to the building for that not to make a difference. There's only two enemy snipers up there, and they don't know where we are. Synchronised takedown, and nobody's any the wiser. Well, not until the next guard shift, but we should be long gone by then. "I'll take the guy on the left," I mutter.

"Your left, or their left?"

I tilt my head to look at Garrus. "I dunno, mate, which one do _you _think I mean?"

"Just checking," he mutters. "Alright. I'll count to three, then we shoot. One-"

"Wait," I interrupt. "You mean, one, two, shoot? Or one, two, three, shoot."

"Which one do you think I meant?"

"Just checking," I reply, grinning to myself as I raise the scope to the left guard's head. "Alright, count us in."

"One, two, three -" I squeeze the trigger, the sound of both our weapons mingling together softly as both guards suddenly crumple, the blood spray fortunately travelling away from the area below them. With all the noise of Omega going on around us, no-one will have heard a thing. "Scoped and dropped," Garrus says to himself, sounding satisfied as we fold our weapons onto our backs. I can't help rolling my eyes when he says that, as I peek out to see if the mercs on the ground are looking our way. I suppose I should just be grateful he didn't yell it.

The mercs haven't picked up on their sudden decrease in numbers or our position, though. I break out from cover first, dashing across the ten metre light in an agonising second of vulnerability while the others follow behind me. Fortunately, no alarms start going off as we stack up against the locked door, so things obviously worked out. Grundan opens up his omni-tool, beginning a quick hack as I look around the wall for any approaching mercenaries. Fortunately, the coast remains perfectly clear.

"So, we're looking for the administrator's office, right?" I ask, as the door lock finally changes to green.

"Or some kind of information archive Eclipse has," Melanis suggests. "They might have that on the administrator's terminal. We could check all the normal worker's terminals, but we don't have time."

"Go for the most likely target first," I nod. "Eclipse are going to notice two dead snipers sooner or later, so we work quick." I move to walk through the door, but Melanis quickly sticks out a talon to stop me.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

I look around the door, straight up…and at the camera roving around the place. Ah, shit. "I saw that. Totally. It's not even pointing over here."

"You'd have walked right in front of it," Melanis chuckles, stepping in quickly and pressing up against the wall under the camera's line of sight. "Now do you see what I have to put up with, Garrus?"

"I've had this for _years_," he replies, as the rest of us follow Melanis' lead. "I know exactly what you're talking about."

"Thanks, bro," I sigh. "You want to have a go at me too, Grundan?" The batarian's helmet turns to me at a speed that seems a tad too eager. "You know what, forget I said that." I take in my bearings at the room spread ahead of us. The administration area is laid out like a proper office, with a large open plan floor area measuring…ooh, at least fifty square metres, if not more. All the normal workers have work cubicles, from the look of things, complete with terminal, desk and office chair. I suppose if old office layouts weren't broke, why fix them?

The area still has some dull lighting, large overhead lights still glowing dimly, and I look up to see a balcony area one floor above running around the entire perimeter of the 'bullpen' we're standing in, as we affectionately referred to this kind of layout back at C-Sec. The balcony area has glass fronted offices, decorated in a significantly more plush style than the worker cubicles. "I guess we're going up there," I say, pointing carefully up to the balcony offices whilst trying to avoid my finger getting into the camera's line of sight.

"And you take the piss out of me for pointing out the obvious," Melanis says sardonically. "Where's the stairs up there?"

"Other side of the room," Grundan grunts.

"Really?" I sigh. "Past all the cameras?"

"Did I fucking stutter?" Grundan shoots back. God, he's so sensitive… I can make out at least five from where I'm standing, covering every angle of the ground floor. For once, the mercs have done a genuinely good job with security. Tactical cloaks should sort things out nicely, but they won't for Grundan and Garrus.

"We'll go up there and find the administrator's office," Melanis says. "It'll probably the one that's decorated the best." Ah, not bad logic. "We can slip past the cameras cloaked. You two, erm…"

"We'll wait here," Garrus shrugs. "Maybe me being here wasn't such a good idea."

I look up at the cameras again. Tactical cloak gives me and Mel a good seven seconds each, enough to get to the bottom of the stairs. Duck into a cubicle, wait for them to recharge, then head up to the executive offices. "I didn't want to say it myself, but yeah, you've got a point," I say, injecting a touch of good humour into my voice so Garrus knows I'm not being serious. "Mel, you ready?"

"Ready," she says, as I get into a standing start position to break for the stairs. Got to be careful not to knock anything over, either…the mercs are probably going to come and investigate if they think they've got a ghost problem.

Oh, brilliant, now I've got the Ghostbusters theme song stuck in my head.

"Go," Melanis hisses. There's only narrow spaces between the cubicles, so I let her run off first before following close behind. The room is filled with the sound of invisible feet pounding on the floor, as I dip between gaps and count up the seconds in my head. Five, six… Melanis ducks into a cubicle in front of me, as I dive into the one behind as my count hits seven, and I re-materialise while unceremoniously trying to hide under a desk. The steps are literally five metres away, though, so once the power cells recharge we'll be fine.

After six uncomfortable seconds with my feet pressed up against the cubicle wall, and elbows forced under my chest from the awkward positioning of the desk in relation to the office chair, I slowly roll out and activate the cloak once again, scrambling up to my feet, running the last few metres, then start hurling myself up the stairs two at a time until I finally reach the flat balcony surface. With no cameras. Perfect. No, just wait until the cloak turns off and I find where Mel is –

A sudden bump knocks me back a couple of paces, along with a surprised growl as both Mel and I come back into view. Oh. There she is. "Watch where you're going," she snaps.

"You were invisible," I point out. "That wouldn't have helped."

The growl changes from surprised to just plain annoyed as the female turian turns and starts looking at the name plates on the doors. "Shut up. Senior base manager, no…"

"I've got the finance manager for the base," I say, looking at a shiny name hologram on the door, and even shinier desk behind the door. "Finance manager who's got too much time on their hands for cleaning…"

"No, we need someone with an IT role," Melanis says. "Or the person in charge of the base. There's a supervisor's office here."

I walk to the door past her, then my eyes light up as I see the title on the door. "I can trump that. Base information officer?"

"Perfect," Melanis says triumphantly, walking up next to me and pressing on the door panel, which flashes stubbornly red. "Ah, shit."

"Yeah, the door to the important office is locked. How surprising," I mutter sarcastically, opening my omni-tool. "Hold on, let me take care of th -" A glance at the security system makes me choke on my words. I've hacked my fair share of systems and locks before, but _damn _this is complex. "Ah, shit."

"The technology manager knows how to make a complex door lock," Melanis says, in a tone that mirrors mine from before. "How surprising."

"Funny," I say, activating the radio in the helmet to talk to Grundan. "We need some tech expertise up here."

"_I __can__'__t __turn __invisible,__" _he replies immediately.

Melanis sighs next to me, obviously not impressed by his reaction. Well, the two of us at least have something in common. "Then we'll have to be a little more careful. But we're not getting through this door unless you get up here. We can see all the cameras from up here, we'll guide you."

"_Great,__" _comes the surly reply. I'm sure the thought of me helping to guide him fills him with dread, but whatever. A glance over the balcony shows he's ready to get going, though. And it's probably in all our interests if I let Melanis do the talking, since he seems to tolerate her, as opposed to his all out hatred of me.

"Alright, when the camera above you looks away, run to the third cubicle on the left and duck inside it," Melanis says, looking over at the cameras as I follow her lead. That seems like a sound strategy…man, why am I getting such a Matrix vibe from this? "Go."

It only takes about a minute for us to chaperone Grundan through the cameras scouring the room, including a couple of close calls with him barely getting into cover, and lunging back out to pick up a datapad he knocked over, but an uneventful trip on the whole as he barges me to the side and starts work on hacking the door, grunting under his breath after seeing the difficulty of the lock.

"_I__'__ll __just, __erm__…__hang __around __down __here,__" _Garrus suddenly says into my earpiece, making me look down at the turian on the floor below, still stood under the camera. _"__Do __you __need __me __to __do __anything?__"_

"You're the leader," I chuckle. "You tell me."

"_I __was __expecting __some __action,__" _he replies, and I can see him give a small shrug from his position below me. _"__And __I __want __to __see __this __stuff __on __Williams __first __hand. __But __I__'__m __stuck __down __here.__"_

I quickly cast my mind back to C-Sec, and the few occasions we tried sneaking around back with Shepard. "Stealth was never your strong point. We'll keep you in the loop about what we find, anyway."

"_I __know. __I__'__m __just __worried __in __case __we __miss __something,__" _he mutters, as I hear the door next to me slide open. Bloody hell, Grundan's good. I wouldn't have even known where to begin with that.

"If there's an archive, we'll just pull up his file and save it to look at later," I say reassuringly. "No worries." Grundan's already typing away on the office terminal. Considering the door security, the terminal's probably going to be just as bad. Still, considering he cut through that like a chainsaw through butter, shouldn't be an issue.

"This terminal has access to the whole network," Grundan mutters as he works, to us or himself, I'm not sure. "Some fucking salarian probably programmed this security network, but…" There's a few more rapid keystrokes, before Grundan steps back from the terminal. "There. Done."

"Cheers," I say, strolling around in front of the now unlocked screen. Oh, crap, this is one of those fancy operating systems…I'm used to the bog standard stuff we had at C-Sec. Grundan just ignores my words of thanks, instead choosing to stroll to the other side of the office and stare out of the window overlooking Omega. Alright, just need to find the area of the network where they keep the archives on Eclipse assets. Or ex-assets, in Williams' case. Double press on the computer symbol to open up the registry, then scroll through to look for the right part. Staff section, no, weaponry registration, no…

"External contractors," Melanis says, pointing her talon at the screen. "Go on that."

"I see it," I say, dragging the cursor down to the relevant section and double clicking, which causes a huge list of files to spill onto the screen. "Shit, now -"

"There's a search bar in the top right, just type in his name," the turian says quickly, pointing again.

"Backseat driver," I mutter, heading to the search bar and typing 'Gus Williams'. Immediately, all the other results disappear, leaving one folder left in front of us. Okay, copy it over to the OSD we brought, and we can get out of here.

"It's not my fault you don't know how to use a terminal," Melanis replies, as I begin copying the folder over. Stuff in the future is bloody quick, though, since the whole process takes about a second.

I chuckle to myself, pulling the OSD out as I power down the terminal. "Hey, not my fault either. I'm used to less sophisticated operating systems." The stuff at C-Sec, namely…and Windows 7 from the days before all this shit. Then again, Windows 7 looks like an Atari 500 compared to the stuff these days.

"That's not much of an excu -" Melanis starts saying, when a radio transmission suddenly cuts us short.

"_Problem,__" _Garrus snaps quickly, as I hear footsteps from the floor below us…and a flashlight beam cutting through the air amongst the cubicles. Pointed directly at Garrus by one salarian mercenary, who also happens to pointing a gun at him. Shit, Grundan must've tipped off a camera on his way across! And we can't exactly let Garrus get shot or captured…so all hell is gonna break loose when we kill this guy. Heaven forbid something goes to plan for once.

"Put your hands where I can see them!" the salarian squeaks, getting right up close to Garrus as he points his handgun in the turian's face. Could try shooting at him, but a miss is gonna be catastrophic for Garrus, especially if the salarian reacts from that range. He's pretty close to the balcony, and I can get a good run up from here. One sure fire way to take him down springs to mind…

Without saying a word to Melanis or Grundan, I dash forward as fast as I can, jump up, placing one foot on the balcony railing, then hurl myself headlong at the salarian, arcing through the air perfectly towards his head. The flight only lasts a second, before I collide into my target with a loud crash, and I push down with my hands to crack his head off a desk. Half the dude's head has turned to soup by the time we both stop moving, as I roll back to my feet to see Garrus staring at me in what's presumably disbelief.

"Well," he finally says. "That's one way to do it."

"No thanks necessary," I reply sarcastically. "Well, I think that's our cover blown. Out the same way we came in?"

"Sounds like a plan," Melanis gasps, as she and Grundan come thundering down the stairs and across the office towards us, as alarms suddenly begin to blare out across the base. Yep, the security guys definitely saw us! "Let's get out of here sooner rather than later!"

All four of us make a run for the door we came through to get in here, Garrus leading the way as it slides open and he bursts through it…then promptly bursts back into the room and starts running in the opposite direction as a spray of shots fly past outside. "We're not going that way!"

"Where the fuck are we going?" I shout, as we dash through the office, previously careful approach forgotten as I slam into a desk and send its contents flying onto the floor.

"Away from the people trying to kill us!" Melanis yells at me, as the four of us head out of the administration area and into some non-descript corridor, whitewashed walls becoming a blur as we sprint past them. I take a quick glance at one of the overhead signs…and my stomach turns as I see what the sign says. 'Mess hall and sleeping quarters.'

"Guys, if we're trying to get _away _from them, this is definitely the wrong way!" I shout, as we continue running…and all slide to a synchronised halt at the sound of voices coming towards us from the direction we're running. And I don't mean a couple of people talking, I mean a mob of people essentially baying for Archangel's blood. And by extension, my blood. Which isn't good at all.

"Shit," Garrus gasps, obviously hearing the voices too. The four of us are good, but a mob of mercenaries is just going to overwhelm us. Especially since they're coming from the front and behind, and they're pissed because we woke them up. The turian whirls around, then points a few metres behind us, at a side corridor leading further into the building. "Down there!"

"Oh, running down corridors in a mercenary base we don't really know the layout of is an excellent idea…" I mutter to myself, beginning to pant from the effort. There's plenty of separate offices along here…from the look of the signs on the doors, research labs, and researcher offices. Researching what, I don't know, or particularly care. Need to find some kind of fire escape or something –

"Fuck!" I hear Melanis shout from in front of me, as she turns around, body language screaming panic. "Dead end!" Shit, we're funnelled in…which means every merc in this base is going to be on our ass. The corridor means they'll only be able to come three at a time, but we're going to run out of ammo or mess up eventually.

"Get that door open!" Garrus yells to Grundan, who's already hacking his way into one of the research labs. Melanis and I both draw our pistols, pointing down the corridor as we wait for the inevitable. Come on, open the door!

One particularly eager asari arrives a couple of seconds before any of her friends, not even managing to get a shot off before Garrus nails her with a burst of assault rifle fire, which Melanis and I follow up with a couple of pistol shots each.

"Got it!" Grundan yells, dashing through the doorway as a row of three mercs show up and start firing at us. The rest of us quickly duck into the research lab, returning fire as best we can before Grundan sets the door to slam shut behind us and lock. Jesus Chirst…I back away from the banging on the other side of the door, then place my hands on my knees and bend down to catch my breath, muttering 'shit' under my breath.

"Well, now we're stuck," Melanis states simply, leaning against one of the counters in the room for experiments and shaking her head. "Brilliant. Because _someone _got caught on camera. I knew this was a bad idea -"

"If the human knew how to hack a door, this wouldn't have happened," Grundan shouts, pointing a finger at me. "And if you knew this was a bad idea, you kept it quiet in the meeting."

"Hey, back off her!" I snap, anger rising when I see Grundan try to shift the blame onto Melanis. "Maybe if you helped give me some tech training instead of being a massive racist I could -"

"QUIET!" Garrus suddenly yells, making as all shut up as he growls from deep in his throat. "We're finding a way out of here. So stop trying to put the blame on each other, and help me look!"

I take a couple of deep breaths, still glaring at Grundan under my helmet. Arguing with him isn't worth losing our lives over, though. "Do you think there's another exit?" I ask, taking in the room. Another big place, square room of about twenty metres either way, complete with sinks, storage cupboards for various chemicals lined all the way across the far wall, along with what looks like a weapon rack in one corner and an ammo chest next to it. Must be some kind of weapon research room…but there's a terminal over on the left hand side of the room.

"We don't know until we check," Garrus mutters, still sounding annoyed about the spat that just took place. Though, considering we're now trapped in an enemy base, it's not that surprising tensions are running high. I hate not having game knowledge to help me… "Grundan, check that terminal."

The batarian jogs over to the other side of the room, banging and mercenary voices on the other side of the door obviously inspiring him to get a move on. Shouldn't be too long until they get through there, through force or otherwise. An optimistic five minutes. We had a better chance of fighting them off from the corridor, to be honest… "It's a security terminal," he announces. "Let me get in."

"Sooner rather than later," Melanis mutters, but its quiet enough so only I hear it.

"I can lock and unlock doors with this, and…I can put the lab into a lockdown in case of contamination," Grundan explains.

"Do it," Garrus nods. The batarian presses a few buttons, causing the lock on the door to start flashing red rather than keeping its colour, with the word 'lockdown' in the middle. "Well, that buys us more time."

"Brilliant," I say, trying to sarcastic rather than just utterly downcast at the situation. "Should give me long enough to sort out the epicgram for my gravestone."

"I'd love to hear that," Melanis says next to me.

"There's a second door control here," Grundan suddenly says, interrupting all of this. "Not affected by lockdown."

I look around, as do the rest of us. "No sign of another door, mate," I shrug. "Except for the one flashing 'lockdown' over and over, which I don't think is opening any time soon."

"The switch is here," he says, indignantly. "There could be a secret entrance."

"Secret entrance?" I scoff. "Come on, Grundan. The mercs don't have some underground lair or -" The batarian stabs down on the terminal keyboard, and with a sudden whir of machinery, the two central storage cupboards in the row lining the far wall begin to move out from the wall, then split apart in the middle. "You've got to be shitting me. No. No way."

"Close-minded," Grundan mutters, as he steps away from the terminal and pushes past me. "Not surprising." I don't even bother calling him out, or feeling insulted. I'm much too busy staring at the steps that have appeared in front of us behind the equipment cases. Since when? Since when were the mercenaries building stuff like this? If people had come back from a mission and told me this, I'd be calling so much bullshit…

"No, there's something horribly wrong about this," Melanis says, standing next to me. "We have absolutely no idea what's down there."

"That's a good point," I nod. "Last time I went down a set of steps that appeared in a secret passage, I had a talking plant with tentacles and zombie minions trying to kill me." Grundan and Melanis both turn their heads to look at me. "Long story."

Garrus steps in front of all three of us, then shrugs. "We do know what's out there. A lot of mercs trying to kill us. Too many to fight. Like it or not, down there," he points to the stairs, "might be our only way out." The turian just stares at the three of us expectantly.

"Fuck it," I finally say. "Potential death is better than certain death."

"For once, he's got a point," Melanis nods.

"Whatever," Grundan mutters, giving his trademark grunt. "Not like we have a choice."

"Good," Garrus says, hefting his assault rifle. "Keep your guard up down there."

I shake my head as we all begin the slow descent, weapons raised as we follow the staircase down. The descent must only be about twenty metres, so nothing too extreme. "If there's another Thorian down here," I mutter to Garrus, "you owe me a Tupari. No matter what Melanis says."

"Deal," Garrus replies, and I see the turian physically shake at the thought as we continue. This place has a similar style to the labs upstairs…white walls, plastic furniture and reinforced windows dotted about the place. We've got a load of individual offices on the left, along with a sign cheerily informing us we're heading to the 'examination room'. Well, if that doesn't sound sinister, I don't know what does.

"What the fuck…" Melanis says, looking to the right as we move down the single long corridor. "What are these?" I follow her vision to see a set of three or four rooms with glass-fronted doors…and they look totally empty inside, save for a bed on a solid frame and a toilet in the corner.

Actually, they look awfully familiar to something I know. "We had holding cells like this at C-Sec," I say. "Eclipse have holding cells in a hidden base, with an 'examination room' ahead of us."

"Definitely keep your guard up," Garrus growls, as we approach the double door at the end of the corridor. From the look of things so far…do we even want to know what's behind there? Still, with all the mercs from before, I guess there's no way to go but forwards. I can faintly hear the hum of machinery behind the door, and some very muffled voices. If this examination room is like anything I know, no way there's going to be much cover. Plus, there's only two voices I can make out.

"How do you want to do this?" I ask. "The people in there are going to notice us as soon as we open that door."

Garrus thinks for a second, then tenses himself against the door and reaches for the button to open it, signalling for me to get ready. "Then let's use the element of surprise." With that, he presses his talon down, and the two of us burst through, pistol and assault rifle raised.

I take a second to look at the scene in front of me. Two scientists, one asari, one salarian, both gawping at us in shock as we burst into the room. Medical machinery all over the place, heart monitors, life support machines, drips, monitoring equipment, banks of screens and controls lining the walls. Not to mention all the wires…converging on one person. A human woman, sitting laid down on a medical bench in the middle of the room, unconscious face bedraggled and somehow screwed up in what looks like sheer pain. Her dirty brown hair spread across the seat, tangled and matted. God, she can't be more than twenty…

"You're not authorised to be here," the salarian says stupidly, as if he expects us to turn around and leave. The asari, however, is a bit more pro-active, body flaring blue as she faces us. Aw, hell no! I do a quick triple tap, placing two rounds through her chest and one through the head, as Garrus deals with the salarian, who's finally decided to reach for the pistol on his hip, albeit far, far too late. The sound of weapon fire quickly dissipates, leaving us with two corpses…and the human in the seat, with all the nodes attached to her. Whatever they're doing, it doesn't look good.

"I told you," I say, quickly stepping forward to her, holstering my pistol as I begin to remove the nodes. A look at the heart monitor shows she's stable…but from the looks of her, she's lucky to be like that at all. Something makes me suspect this girl isn't here of her own volition. "I _told _you there'd be some fucked up shit down here." The girl suddenly lets out a small groan as I rip off the two nodes on her head, eyes flickering. "Hey, hey, relax," I say, doing my best to sound reassuring as I move to the ones on her arms. "We're here to help you."

I can't even react to what happens next until it's over. Those five few words cause the girl's lips to slide back in a snarl, teeth bared as she pushes off the bed, grabbing one arm and pulling it behind my back in an agonising lock. As I let out a yell of a pain, struggling to fight back, she twists me around to face the others, reaches to my holster before I can do anything, then brings it out and holds it to my head with one hand, the other keeping me in the lock. I can hear her breath in my ear, frenzied, panicked, almost…feral.

"You know," I gasp as the lock tightens, and Garrus, Melanis and Grundan train their weapons at me and the girl behind, "maybe the Thorian wouldn't have been so bad after all."

**A/N: Hello! Sorry this took a bit longer than usual, I've had plenty distracting me. Not only school, but Uncharted 3 as well. Which is INCREDIBLE. If you have a PS3, you owe it to yourself to buy that game. No joke.**

**Anyway, the squad retrieves the Williams data! But at what cost? Not only is there a whole base out to kill them, but now we've got our mystery girl holding Ian at gunpoint…**

**I'll try to be a bit more prompt with the next chapter. I'm now a volunteer athletics coach, though, which means whatever time I did have is now getting even smaller, heh. But I'll keep at the writing, don't worry.**

**Thanks ****for ****reading ****and ****reviewing! ****Until ****next ****time****…**


	26. Ian vs The Assault Rifle

Chapter 26

Poets of the Fall: Psychosis

"Well," I say, forcing out a scared laugh as the girl presses my own pistol against my helmet, "this is awkward."

I should probably be freaking out about now, but whatever surreal quality this situation has in it seems to be keeping me calm. For the moment, anyway. Not only do we find an underground base-slash-lair with scientists doing what looks like experiments on random people, but said random person also appears to be, putting it mildly, crazy. Plus she managed to get the better of me without too much trouble. And stole my gun. Even with the helmet, at this range it's going to do fuck all against a pistol round, especially from my modified handgun.

Wow, I'm literally a finger twitch away from death, aren't I?

…

Yep, anxiety's definitely rising now.

"We're not trying to hurt you," Garrus says, keeping his words slow and calm, despite the noticeable tightening of his talons on his assault rifle. Over the years I've spent with him, I've picked up on that being a definite sign of him getting ready to open fire. Which I'm not too sure I'm comfortable with. "Come on. Let him go, and we can get you away from here. Let us help you."

The girl still doesn't reply, but I can detect her head movements in my peripheral vision, switching between the three people pointing weapons at her frantically as she begins to shuffle towards a wall. Wants to make sure she's got her back covered. That seems oddly professional…

"The people who were keeping you, we just shot them, in case you didn't notice," Melanis snaps, holding her ground next to Garrus. At least she's not opened fire and is actually trying to get me out of this alive. That's a pleasant surprise. "We're fighting the mercs. So, maybe let our man go, and we won't have to add you to our list of enemies."

"Plus, if you shoot me, it's gonna make a hell of a mess on you," I add, trying to be helpful. "You know, blood and stuff." Garrus' helmet looks pointedly at me. "What? Cos you're doing so much better here!"

"No-one's forcing you to do anything," Garrus says, and I can see the turian take one careful step forward as he talks. "But, I swear to you, we're not here to hurt you." With that, the turian slowly lowers his assault rifle, then gently places it on the ground. "You see? We're not trying to hurt anyone. You don't need a hostage to walk out of here."

I can still hear the girl's breathing patterns in my ear, still frantic as both Melanis and Grundan follow Garrus' lead in lowering their weapons. I dunno what they did to her, but she is fragile, that's for sure. "Listen to me," I say, addressing her. "The people who did this to you, my friends and I hunt them. So at the very least, we both have a common enemy. We already got you out of that chair, killed your captors, put down our weapons, even when you're threatening one of us. What else do we need to do to prove we're on your side?"

All five of us stand in intense silence for a few seconds, no-one daring to make a move. This isn't gonna go anywhere unless someone does something. "I'm going to lower my helmet," I say. Face to face contact is a big part of negotiation, so the helmet doesn't help. It's just making sure she doesn't blow my head off when it suddenly lowers. "Alright?" Again, the girl says nothing, but there's no indication the move is going to piss her off. My eyes tighten unconsciously as I slowly reach for the button on the wrist of my left arm with my left hand, and the helmet immediately begins to fold back again, sounding significantly louder than I remember. The sudden noise makes my heart stop beating for a second…then start up again rapidly as the girl barely even reacts. Alright, here we go…

"Look at me. I swear, we'll get you out of here," I continue, keeping me voice quiet, my words deliberate and slow. She's not killed me yet, so obviously we must be doing something right. "Whoever did this to you, we can protect you from them. Just…" I sigh, closing my eyes briefly. How the fuck am I supposed to negotiate with someone like this? "Look, I know this sounds stupid from the guy you're holding hostage, I really do. But you have to trust me. I'm telling you the truth. You're scared, you're confused, we understand. I understand."

I crane my neck, trying to make some kind of eye contact. With those huge, brown pupils staring back at me. Only time I've seen eyes like that before are on rescued slaves, or the colonists on Feros. There's fear in there. Not fear as most people know it. It's an animal thing most of us never tap into, and thank Christ we don't. What the hell have they done to her… "Let me help you. Please." I say. It would sound pathetic if I was talking to anyone. One last desperate plea. But this girl, as far as I can tell, isn't ordinary at all. She wants someone to help her, but there's no-one to trust.

The girl pauses her head movements for a second, and I can feel her eyes bore into mine with the intensity of a laser. There's nothing at first, and then…something. The tiniest flicker of emotion, understanding, whatever. And without warning, the hand holding my arm behind my back lets go, and the arm around my neck loosens. At first, I don't even react, the sudden switch from hostility to peace taking me (and from the look of things, everyone else) by surprise.

Then the reality hits. I'm free. I take a few quick steps away, as Garrus and the others lean down again for their weapons, bringing them up in the girl's direction. "Hey, hey!" I shout, standing in front of them. "I said I'd help her, not blow her away as soon as she let me go!" The others slowly lower their weapons, as I turn to look at the girl. She hasn't moved from the wall she was holding me at, just staring at my gun in her hand with a neutral expression.

"She's a danger to everyone," Grundan says, sounding pissed at me getting in the way of the shot. Though if Garrus wasn't here, I reckon he'd take it anyway. "Maybe we don't kill her. But we leave her behind, we've got enough trouble already."

"I don't like saying it like that," Melanis mutters, "but he's got a point. Better the four of us get out alive than all five of us dying if we take her."

"She's just over there," I hiss, pointing over my shoulder. God, she still has my gun...but I don't think she's going to use it on us. She's had plenty of time to now, anyway. "Bit of sensitivity? And we're not leaving her behind. Whole point of this group is to protect people, the victims of the merc groups. If she isn't a victim, I'd like to know who is."

"The way she grabbed you, and how she's handling that gun," Garrus says out of nowhere, and it almost sounds like he's talking to himself as he looks over at the girl. "That takes training."

Melanis chuckles next to me. "Actually, Garrus, getting the better of Ian isn't that hard."

"Good one," I mutter.

Garrus stands still in thought for a few seconds, then nods. "She's coming with us. She seems trained well enough, and I'm not going to leave her. Not after the mercs did…this." He sweeps a talon around the room, at the wires, terminals and chair in the middle. "Animals."

"Fine," Melanis says, shaking her head as she turns to look around the room. "You two…" Eh? 'You two'? What's that supposed to mean?

"Grundan," Garrus barks, stepping into the leadership role and knocking me off my train of thought. "Check those terminals, see if you can find anything about what's going on here before we leave."

"We don't have time for that," Grundan grunts.

"Here," I say, reaching into a pocket and tossing him the OSD I used to get information on Williams. "Save anything important looking onto here, we can look at it later. Besides, until we can work out an exit strategy, we're stuck in this place."

"There'll be another exit somewhere. With all this equipment lying around, only having one way in would be crazy in case of a fire," Garrus points out. "Take a look around. And Ian…get your gun back."

I look over at the girl again, who's now pulling back the slide on the pistol, with evident interest. "Oh. Yeah," I nod, stepping over to her as Garrus chuckles and begins walking around the place, while Grundan works on a terminal and Melanis stands stubbornly by herself. "Hey," I say, trying my best to sound friendly, despite the fact she appears to be crazy and pointed a gun at my head. "I'm gonna need that back." I point to the pistol, reaching out a hand for it. Again, her eyes meet mine; the fear in them dimmed a fraction. It's still there, but she seems to have calmed. For now. She keeps staring at me, still not handing over the gun. "Come on," I persist, trying to add a natural chuckle to make her loosen up. "I'm not going to be much use protecting you without a weapon."

"You don't belong here," she suddenly whispers. I barely even catch her voice, but the words are definitely there. Her eyes don't shift from mine as she says them, and my heart starts beating triple time. I'm just being paranoid…she's got no way of knowing who I am. Why should I care?

"Well, you're right," I nod. "We did kind of break in here. Hence all the mercs out to kill us."

"You don't belong here," she repeats, shaking her head, long strands of brown hair flicking lightly around as she does. "You never have."

My brow furrows as I look at her, and I can feel my heartbeat pounding around my head. Who the fuck is this girl? "What the hell are you talking about?" I hiss, looking around to make sure no-one else is listening in. No response from the girl. "Listen, you don't know me," I say firmly. "So whatever you're getting at here, drop it."

"Ian," a female, flanging voice suddenly says from behind me, making me jump and swivel to face Melanis. "I think I've found the way out."

"Good," I nod, looking at the girl one last time, who's attention is back on the pistol like nothing ever happened. It's got to be her rambling. I mean, she can't know about me. Can she?

"You alright?" Melanis suddenly asks, clicking her mandibles impatiently next to me. "You're not exactly jumping for joy at the prospect of escape."

"I am on the inside," I shrug, pulling myself together. I can talk to the girl later. I hope. "Just a bit distracted. She's, uh…odd."

"You're the one who wanted to rescue her," Melanis shrugs. "You and Garrus."

"That reminds me," I say, clicking my fingers as we walk up to a door, partially concealed behind one of the terminals. From the looks of a control panel next to it, we have ourselves an elevator. Nice. "What was that little 'you two' comment you made when Garrus made his decision?"

Melanis barks out a sharp laugh. "You two always trying to play the damn heroes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Maybe not," she shrugs. "It could be what Omega needs, it's just not how I'd operate. I always find it weird."

I frown at her. "What?"

"How you do that," Melanis replies, subtly looking over at the girl. "I mean, she tried to kill you. But you still want to help her. You always want to help everyone."

"Are you trying to prove a point with this?"

"I'm trying to tell you something you'll learn sooner or later here. You can't save everyone."

"Does that mean I shouldn't try?" I ask rhetorically. The two of us stand in silence, looking at the lift console as she starts to hack into it.

"Is an elevator the best idea?" Garrus asks across the room, walking behind us. "They'll know it's here, so they'll be waiting for us at the top."

Damn it, that's a good point. And since there's only two ways into this place, they already have guards trying to break in through the lab. They might not know we've found their secret base, but I guess they'll have taken the precaution. Which means… "If we convince them we're taking the other exit, then it should hopefully leave the elevator clear. Or at least more sparsely defended," I suggest.

"Not a bad idea," Garrus replies, nodding. "If we briefly go out of the lockdown in the lab, I can throw a grenade through the door. We'll get a few of the mercs, and it looks like we're softening them up to make our escape. That should give us more breathing room at the top of the elevator. Grundan, I need you to get back into the lab terminal and open the door for us."

"The terminal up there is still unlocked," the batarian says without even turning around. "I need to finish with these files."

"You and I can head up there and get the mercs looking the wrong way," Melanis says, glancing at Garrus. "Ian, stay here with Grundan. And keep an eye on her." From Melanis' tone of voice, she's almost certainly scowling at our mystery girl. I guess she's just suspicious of her. And after the stuff the girl said to me about not belonging, I can't say I blame her too much.

The two of them quickly jog off and out the room, leaving me to stroll over to Grundan and take a look at the terminal screen. May as well bug the shit out of him to kill time. "Find anything useful?" I ask.

"Lot of lab reports," he mutters, obviously wanting to put as few words into this conversation as possible. "Someone can look at them when we get back to base. I got a name, though."

"You didn't think to tell us that earlier?" I say, frowning.

"You didn't ask," he shrugs. "Besides, you were all busy doing…whatever it is you do. Do you want the name or not?"

"Enlighten me."

"Files say she's called Sensat," Grundan responds, sounding pissed at my sarcastic tone.

I raise an eyebrow, for no-one's benefit except my own. "That's it? No surname or anything?"

"No," the batarian grunts, just leaving it at that. Well…Sensat. Huh. Odd choice of name, but at least now there's something rather than 'that creepy girl'.

"And what're you doing now?" I ask innocently.

"Copying some mail over. Most of its crap though, so I am not checking through this shit when we get back to base," he says strongly, clicking onto an email and absent-mindedly scrolling to the bottom of it as he heads for the 'delete' button. "You can do that."

"C-Sec gives you a high patience threshold for stuff like -" I begin to say, then my response gets cut off at the signature on the bottom of the mail. "Whoa, don't delete that!" I say frantically, batting Grundan's hand out of the way as I stare down at the screen.

"Hey, what the fuck is your problem?" he snarls, but I ignore him as I stare down at the five letter word used to sign off the message.

_Umbra._

Holy shit. Laet might just be right after all. "Make sure you save that," I snap, looking up to check if Garrus and Melanis are about to return. We need that email saved, preferably before we rush out of here with a ton of mercenaries chasing us. I mean, what the hell is someone who invests in drug dealers doing to be in contact with an underground research base? "Laet's gonna love this…"

"Love what?" Grundan asks, shoving me out of the way to look at the screen…just as a muffled explosion sounds from down the corridor, coupled with a pair of pounding feet dashing back towards us.

"I'll explain later," I say, getting to my feet as Garrus and Melanis burst back in. "How'd it go?"

"They definitely think we're leaving that way," Garrus pants. "Everyone, get into the elevator!" Sensat is just staring at him, same fearful expression on her face as before. Come on, don't freeze up on us now…

I quickly jog over to Sensat, placing my hand on her shoulder in some dismal attempt at being reassuring. "I said I'd protect you," I say, looking her in the eyes. "We're gonna get you out, Sensat. Just come with us."

"What he's trying to say," Melanis shouts from the elevator, as her, Garrus and Grundan pile into it, "is come with me if you want to live!"

Wait, what? Was that a deliberate quote? Nah, must be a coincidence…

It does the trick, though, as Sensat moves into the elevator with me standing at her side. She's still got my pistol, and from the looks of things, I ain't getting it back any time soon. Garrus punches the button to get us out of the lair, while Melanis reaches onto her back and pulls out her assault rifle, tossing it to me.

"I don't know how to use this," I say stupidly, staring down at the weapon. "Well, I mean, I have a vague idea, but pistols are more my area of expertise."

"Point it at what you want to die, and pull the trigger," Melanis replies bluntly. "If the mercenaries can handle it, I'm pretty sure you're clever enough too."

"Was that a compliment?" I ask.

"Get ready," Garrus barks, drawing all conversation to a halt as we ready our weapons in response to the elevator slowing down. Even Sensat is prepared, handgun raise levelly at the door. No shaking in her hands, at all… "They might have left some people for us."

"Bring them on," Grundan growls, as the doors slide open…to exactly nothing. We all burst out into the deserted Generic Corridor A, weapons up, to a grand total of zero guards.

"Well, they dropped the ball on this one," I mutter, as we lower our weapons a few centimetres and advance cautiously along the hallway. "Why wouldn't they have guards on the other exit?"

"They must have gone for the distraction better than we expected," Garrus replies. "And I've got no problem with them not being here, do you?"

"Point taken," I nod, as the five us of peek around the corner. Hey, that's the mess hall! We've just ended up on the other side of the room! Which makes sense, now that I think about it, given that the underground lair was a straight line. What _doesn__'__t _make sense is the total lack of guards. Again, I'd like to think the mercs are too dumb to have thought about the other way in, but the harsh reality is that they're not. Unless they didn't actually know about the exit. But…how? If they don't know about that exit, do they even know about the underground lab at all?

I am definitely taking a look at those files Grundan saved when I get back to base…

"Vortash," Garrus says into his radio, as the five of us cut across the mess hall and head in the opposite direction the offices we started in towards another exit, "we're going to need extraction, right now. ETA three minutes. And we might have a few mercs on our tail."

"_Roger,__" _comes the gruff reply, before the call finishes. Grundan seems positively talkative compared to Vortash sometimes…

"They'll have completely locked off the gate by now," Melanis says, as we take a sharp left, now breaking into a sprint as I let Sensat run at my side. She seems confident now, but considering how erratic she's already proven to be, someone should keep an eye on her. "And the outside area. We'll have to get over the wall again, same way we got in. Which means a sprint back around the outside of the base to the office building."

"Through the floodlit area crawling with mercs," I nod. "That tends to be how things go, why change now?"

"Exactly," Garrus replies, letting slip a chuckle as we all slide to a halt next to the door leading out. "We'll need to move quickly. When you're not climbing, lay down covering fire for the rest of us, and when you are climbing, make it quick." The orders come clear and quickly, with military precision. "Got it?"

Everybody nods, except Sensat, who's still standing and staring at the door with a look of apprehension on her face. Now that I think about it, I wonder when she was last out in the open air? "Run with the rest of the team," I say, quickly folding back my helmet to give her a smile. "And if anyone starts shooting at you…well, I guess you've got my gun for a reason. You know how to use it?" I get a sharp nod at that. "We'll get you out, just stick close to me."

"Now or never," Grundan grunts, as Garrus places a talon on the door control…and it slides open, the sight of the bright spotlights outside almost blinding as I charge out first, assault rifle cradled in my arms as I break into a full sprint, armoured feet smacking off the solid floor as I charge forward, taking the quickest diagonal route towards the way we got in. There's plenty of mercenaries scattered about the perimeter of the courtyard, obviously still reacting to the sight of all of us bursting out of the door. Element of surprise, good…we'll need as much time as we can get.

There is one merc in my path about five metres away, an asari, who's face stretches downwards in surprise at the sight of me dashing towards her. No time to bring up the rifle for a shot, so…

"Hey, hold this!" I yell, shoving the assault rifle away from my chest and chucking it directly at the asari, who catches it with the same look of shock on her face. Which is quickly wiped off when my fist collides squarely with her face, and I catch the assault rifle falling out of her unconscious hands as I burst past. Just as the first shots get fired.

The sudden shift from silence to being under fire is almost overwhelming, as we close on the last fifty metre stretch to the darkened area we came in through. Shots fly literally _everywhere, _my shields managing to drop to around 50% within two seconds. Fuck! I point the assault rifle in the vague direction of our assailants, squeezing the trigger and letting off an inaccurate spray of shots as the recoil makes my arms judder. It seems to do a good job suppressing them, though, and the enemy rate of fire begins to decrease as the rest of the squad shoots back. Sensat hurtles up next to me, keeping her body as low as possible while she clutches her pistol. Shit, she's not go no armour at all, does she?

"Use me as cover!" I yell to her, barely sparing a second to consider how suicidal that statement is as I break out of the light and into the comforting darkness of the wall, looking left to the three mercenaries firing at us from inside the office building. I lift the assault rifle to fire back…but not as fast as Sensat. Three silenced shots spit out of her pistol, and three mercenaries drop lifelessly to the ground.

Whoa, rewind. We were sprinting at full speed…and she dropped three mercenaries…from about fifty metres away…with a pistol.

I've said it before, I'll say it again; who the _fuck _is this girl?

"Mel!" I yell, crouching down to return fire as the turians and batarian join Sensat and I. "Get me over, I'll give the rest of you a hand!"

"Hey, I'm waiting on you!" she shouts, as I swivel around to face her, standing with her talons interlocked at the wall to give me a boost. "Pay attention!"

"This is not the time for you two to be you two!" Garrus shouts, ducking as a bullet chips the side of his helmet. The shields absorb most of the bullet, though, letting him nail the offending merc with some well aimed assault rifle shots. "Move!"

I scramble up, moving to Melanis and quickly hopping up with one foot onto her talons. She barely even lowers her arms, pushing up on me as I do my best to jump and grab onto the wall, clambering on top as I reach down for the next person. "Alright, who's next?"

Grundan moves up now, as I spray some random bullets at our assailants to keep them pinned down. With an agility that's surprising for him, Grundan barely even needs Melanis to get over, vaulting over the wall and dropping down to the other side as I maintain my position giving covering fire.

"Get Sensat out of there!" I yell, looking down with alarm at the girl calmly firing back at the mercenaries with impeccable accuracy. Garrus rushes forward, tapping her on the shoulder…but Sensat completely ignores him. "Sensat!" I shout. "Come on!"

I'm not exactly sure why what happens next does. One moment Garrus has a talon on her shoulder, pushing her towards to the wall…then she breaks free, and out of nowhere, flares up blue. _Biotics? _What the –

Sensat suddenly flings her arms out, blue aura flowing across the surface of her body and out from her palms in a neon blue wave, bowling over the mercs getting close to our position and making the others stagger back. Damn, even Liara would be impressed with that!

Wait, why's she just standing there? And tipping back into Garrus' arms, and…oh, _crap. _She must've got biotics at some point in the lab, and subsequently has no idea how to limit her power. Well, just in case we didn't have enough trouble, right? "Garrus, get her over here!" I scream, in the temporary silence as the mercenaries compose themselves again. The turian scoops her up in his arms with ease, running back towards me and lifting her up, with help from Melanis, as I grab Sensat's arms and pull her up next to me and look down at Grundan. "Catch!"

I carefully lower her down until Grundan has a firm grip, reaching onto my belt for a grenade as Garrus and Melanis both spring up and grab the lip of the wall, beginning to hoist themselves up. "You two alright?" I gasp, sending the disc-shaped grenade flying at the mercs with a practiced flick of the wrist as the three of us drop onto the other side of the wall, where Grundan is already sprinting towards the extraction point with Sensat in his arms. Good thing he's not holding a grudge about having to save her…

"Bastards clipped my arm," Melanis gasps, as we set off at a sprint, the sound of mercenaries dashing out of the main gate echoing around the night as we duck into a poorly light side alley. Actually, on Omega, then whole 'poorly lit' bit is kind of a prerequisite. "I'm fine. You?"

"Scratches, bruises, hand hurts from punching a merc, the usual," I pant. "Garrus?"

"I'm fine," the turian growls, looking up to see a familiar shuttle swooping overhead. "Except for the headache I've got thinking about everything we saw in there."

"Up here," I say, pointing to a nearby fire escape that Grundan's stopped by. Man, I love these things. Health and safety finally helps me out, after years of screwing me over. Sensat's obviously beginning to come around in his arms from the way she's shaking her head. "And that seriously makes two of us. There's something Laet and I might need to tell you about when we get back to base which could help, though."

Garrus' helmet turns to look at me, as Melanis and Grundan frantically help Sensat up the ladder. "What?"

"Umbra," I mutter, glancing back at the sky above the Eclipse base, lit up by floodlights as it becomes a hive of activity. "Something tells me they're gonna be our new best friend."

**A/N: And we're back! Sorry this took so long! Had a lot to do with school and athletics, combined with buying Skyrim…yeah. My Khajiit thief took the free time I usually set aside for writing. (Awkward shrug). It won't happen again, though, I'm all 'Skyrimed out' for a bit.**

**So, that's Sensat. I should probably thank the show 'Firefly' for obviously giving me an inspiration there. Don't get me wrong, Sensat is _not_River Tam. But if they met at a party, they'd probably have stuff to talk about.**

**Umbra makes a return, too. It's nice reading your theories on who or what Umbra actually is, so keep them up, heh.**

**Here's hoping next chapter doesn't take so long, anyway, I'll try my best. Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, favouriting, all that good stuff. Almost 800 reviews too!**

**See you next time!**


	27. Ian vs The Hidden Voice

Chapter 27

The Naked and Famous: Young Blood

The drive back to base is mercifully short, just ten minutes spent nervously checking our six on the way to ensure none of the extremely pissed off Eclipse mercs managed to get on our tail. Getting Sensat up the fire escape was struggle, after her passing out from her biotic efforts, but the mercs obviously hadn't seen our escape route until too late. They showed up in the alleyway we took just as we were setting off in the shuttle.

We had a couple of their cruisers following us to begin with, but Vortash is absolute beast behind the wheel. What Joker can do with the Normandy, he can do with our little shuttle. A couple of minutes weaving between buildings and lanes of traffic, or both at the same time, proved more than enough to shake our Eclipse tail while I tried to stop the contents of my stomach exacerbating the situation.

Now we've touched down, though, Garrus and I are taking Sensat to be looked at by Monteague while Laet takes the files about Williams off the OSD. Then we can give the other stuff to Monteague so he can check out what exactly those people did to Sensat. Given the state she's now returned to after the firefight at the base, the nervous stares and fearful body language, it doesn't take much intuition to guess that she's not been through a good experience. Hopefully Monteague's gonna be able to shed more light on the situation.

The drell's eyes noticeably widen in shock as we walk in with Sensat, causing him to hurriedly rise out of his chair and walk over to us. "This is the one you told me about?" he asks, concern obvious. It's always good to see Monteague gives a damn about his patients…I mean, most doctors do, but the real emotion is reassuring. He'll take care of her.

"Do you see anyone else who doesn't normally live here?" I reply sardonically, but I inject enough humour into my voice to get a smirk back off the drell as he guides Sensat towards an examination chair and bed in the corner. Best to make sure she's not got anything seriously wrong with her-

As soon as Sensat's vision meets the chair we're leading her to, she suddenly starts pushing away, eyes wide and frantic as she pushes. "No, not back in there," she says frantically, over and over, without pause for breath in between the words. "I can't, you said you'd help me!" Shit, that chair in the lab we got her out of…this must be bringing things back for her. Bollocks, should've thought of that!

"Hey, hey, easy!" I say, turning Sensat so she's facing away from the chair as I crouch down and make full eye contact with her. "It's okay. No-one's forcing you back in there. But we need to make sure you're alright from…whatever's happened to you."

"Not in the chair," she whispers. "Please. I can't go back in there."

"You don't have to," I reply, giving her a reassuring smile as I glance up at Monteague. "We don't need the chair. Right?"

The drell frowns, but nods his head anyway. "It would make things easier…but I can do a check if she is standing up. Just make sure she stands completely still."

"Can you do that for us?" I ask calmly, looking into Sensat's frightened eyes again. I saw them while we were fighting our way out of the base…back there, she was calm, collected, completely in the zone for killing. Which she pretty much excelled at. All the headshots and stuff she was pulling makes me look like a overweight man with a pop gun in comparison, but the sudden shift from that to this is bizarre. Badass one second, then fearful child the next.

Like she's been programmed to kill.

Sensat unsteadily rises to her feet, Garrus' talon helping her up as Monteague readies his omni-tool and starts hovering it over different parts of her body, slowly making his way across as he stares at the readout on the screen. I don't understand a bloody word of it, but Monteague doesn't seem overly worried by anything he's seeing. Until his hand reaches her head. His mouth sort of drops open a fraction, hand now unmoving from its previous slow motions as he stares at the display, presumably reading the lines of text over again. To be honest, I'd have been surprised if there _hadn__'__t _been anything out of the ordinary. Though that's probably because I'm a cynical twat.

"The scan is complete," Monteague finally says, shaking himself from his state of shock as he offers Sensat a small smile. "No problems that need immediate attention." His vision shifts to Garrus, then to me. "Can I, erm…talk to you two in private?"

"Yeah," Garrus nods, looking down at Sensat. "We'll just be over in the corner." With that, the three of us walk to the side, leaning close to each other as Monteague speaks in a hushed tone.

"Technically, there is nothing wrong with her. Nothing that requires actual treatment or surgery," he explains, scales on his brow furrowed. "But…the scan picked up incisions around the back and side of her head. Now, the incisions have been sewn up again carefully, and there is no damage I can see beyond the incisions themselves."

"So what's the problem?" Garrus asks, a touch impatiently.

"What the incisions mean," Monteague says. "I do not know what she's been through, but she has serious psychological damage from whatever happened to her. I can try and help her with that."

"We've got files from the lab we found her in," I say. "They ought to help."

"I need to look at them at the soonest opportunity," the drell nods. "They will probably prove my fear correct. The incisions are precise, surgical, as is the job done on sealing them again. Given her psychological state too, and what you have described…there is evidence of surgery. Most likely those files you have will confirm that." He takes a small look back at Sensat, his large eyes sympathetic in their movements. "I pray that Arashu watches over her."

"I don't think that'll be enough," I mutter. "Right, uh…look, she should stay with you while we grab those files for you to check. Maybe do a more detailed scan on those incisions?"

"See what you can get out of her about her training as well," Garrus adds. "She must have learned to shoot a gun somewhere." I frown to myself when he says that. I can't help but get the horrible feeling he actually wants to use Sensat on the team…I mean, I can see the benefits in her helping us out, but with her mental state? Jumping to conclusions about her role right now isn't a good idea.

"You mentioned she has biotics too, I can check if her amp is functioning properly," Monteague nods, readying his omni-tool as he turns back towards Sensat, who's giving him the same fearful look as the one she had in the lab. God, we're not helping her at all, are we? "I need to run a few more checks on you, I'm afraid."

"Get away from her," a deep, flanging voice suddenly growls from the door, causing all of us to whirl around and face…

Vortash? Shit, missed him coming in. What the hell is he doing in here?

"She needs a medical examination, Vortash," Garrus explains calmly, as I inspect the other turian's face closely. Vortash's mandibles are actually trembling a bit, but in recognisable anger. Hell, if it's got him talking, he _must _be pissed! That's pretty much the first sentence I've heard from the guy! Didn't realise his voice was so rough… "It's a few checks, that's all."

"She's terrified," he says gruffly, striding past us and putting a hand on Sensat's shoulder before we can do anything. "Any fool could see that as soon as we came into the base." With that, he looks down at Sensat…and his whole body language calms. His usually harsh expression softens, eyes lowering their intensity as he talks to her. "It's alright. I'll get you some food, and you don't have to do these…tests." He shoots Monteague a pure _filthy _glare at that.

"Tests? I do not know what you're trying to imply, Vortash," Monteague retorts, glaring right back, "but that is _not _what I'm doing -"

"Come on," Vortash says to Sensat, as the girl actually moves close to him, seemingly drawn to the turian who's suddenly burst out to protect her, fearful look still there, but tempered slightly as the turian stands next to her protectively. I'm too staggered by the whole thing to really do anything about it. Vortash talks? Since when?

"Vortash," Garrus snaps, as the other turian begins to head out of the room, completely ignoring him. "Vortash! We're not done here!"

"She's done," Vortash replies, previous expression of fury back as he addresses Garrus. "So back off." And with that, he storms out of the room, guiding Sensat with him.

Uh…what the fuck just happened?

"Vortash!" Garrus shouts, making a move for the door. I'm sticking my hand out to stop him before I can even give it any real thought. Sensat did look genuinely scared at the prospect of a medical check-up, and Monteague did say there was nothing immediately wrong with her. Plus the files will answer more questions than an examination will. After everything she's been through, last thing she needs is Garrus shouting at the one person who's really standing up for her.

"Let me go talk to him," I say. "Like it or not, he has a point. We're scaring the shit out of her with all this stuff."

"He's ignoring my orders," Garrus mutters, though his fury seems to have abated from me stopping him.

"For the right reasons," I reply. Looking back, we've really been giving Sensat a hard time. Damn it, I should've been the one insisting we get her some food and let her relax, instead of letting this happen like there's nothing wrong. Why didn't I think of that, or at least pick up on it sooner? That's not like me… "Monteague, you're the psychiatrist, but I think it's pretty obvious she was scared."

"Vortash was right," the drell admits. "Sensat is terrified, and I cannot blame her."

Garrus sighs, resting his head in a talon briefly as he looks at the door, then back at me. "Fine. I'll go and tell Laet to hurry up on getting those files about her. Go and talk to Vortash, make sure he doesn't have her running free on the streets," he says to me, and I'm not even sure if he's joking with that.

"Got it," I nod, jogging out into the corridor as I see Vortash take Sensat around the corner towards the kitchen. I've got no idea why he's taking this so badly, but hopefully I can try to relate to him now that he's talking. And make sure Sensat's okay. I round the corner into the kitchen…to see Sensat sat down on the table, and Vortash standing in front of her, talons curled up dangerously as a low growl escapes his throat.

"Did I not make myself clear?"

"You did," I reply quickly. "Crystal clear. And I agree with you, we shouldn't have just taken her to Monteague like that. But…look, you can't burst in and take Sensat away like that. Garrus is kinda pissed about it."

"Garrus doesn't understand," Vortash snaps. "None of you do."

Jesus Christ, talk about cryptic answers. The fact I don't know anything about Vortash beyond him being a good pilot doesn't really help matters either. "Look, mate," I reply, patience beginning to wear thin, "I'm not quite sure what it is you understand that we don't. Considering it's got you talking, which is more than any of us have managed in months, there's obviously something about this that -"

"You don't know what it's like to live how she does," Vortash snarls, stepping forward and towering his considerable height over me. "Amarantha was just like her. So, believe me, I understand this more than you ever can." His mandibles click together, and combined with the growl, the illusion I'm normally under that we're not so different is roughly shattered. Vortash is a big, scaled, sharply taloned thing from a totally different culture who could probably gut me Saren style before I can do anything…

Actually, the fact I'm even thinking this means his intimidation attempt is working rather well. Fuck! I'm so crap at this! "Amarantha?"

"I'm not talking about her," Vortash growls again. "Leave it."

"Alright," I say apologetically, lifting my hands calmingly. "Sorry. Look, Vortash, she seems comfortable around you, you want to protect her, and you know what you're doing. So, I think it's best you take care of her. I just need to talk to her for five minutes, make sure everything's okay, find out why she was in that base."

"No. No questions," he replies sharply.

"I swear, if she's feeling uncomfortable, I'll leave. You can drag me out of there," I say. "All I'm going to ask her is how she ended up in that base. One little question. The more we know, the more we can help her."

I can see Vortash mandibles twitch in indecision as he looks at Sensat, then back to me. "Fine," he mutters begrudgingly, stepping aside to let me through. Sensat doesn't really look up as I sit down next to her, firmly focused on the food she's wolfing down.

"Sorry about…everything in there," I say, shaking my head lightly. "It wasn't on." Sensat ignores me save for her eyes briefly moving to mine to acknowledge my presence, before she gets to work on her food again. The bastards must've been starving her or something back at that base… "I'll leave you to your food in a second, but I just need you to try and tell me how you got into that base. Is that okay?"

Sensat's fork stops mid-way to her mouth, as she tilts her head to look at me. "They said they'd help me."

Crap, this might be tough. Just got to treat it like a witness at C-Sec…take it slow, show I'm on their side. Garrus always said I had a knack for that. He was more the '' kind of guy. "I need you to think really carefully about this, alright? Who said they'd help you? Why?"

"I…was living on the street," she replies, brow furrowing as she thinks. "There was a group of us, they gave us food, took us to that place." More than one of them? I guess that explains the cages…and why they were empty. Whatever they were doing, obviously the first few attempts weren't successful. "Then they took people away. Put them in the base, then the chair." Her eyes flicker downwards, grip on her fork loosening as she says that, fearful expression coming back again. "The chair. In it for days, everything melding together…"

"That's all I need," I say quickly, trying to pull her vision back onto me by leaning into her line of sight. "You don't need to think about what happened in there anymore. It's over. We'll protect you now. Especially that guy." I point over my shoulder at Vortash. Still don't know what his connection to this is all is…but it's something to do with Amarantha. Whoever that is. I shouldn't pry into his business, but I need to know before I'm gonna be totally happy with Vortash looking after Sensat.

Sensat's expression gradually calms again, as she makes contact with the turian over my shoulder, then with me. I guess she's beginning to trust the two of us, at least. Which is ironic, seeing as she was getting ready to shoot me a couple of hours ago… "You're strange," she suddenly says.

I raise an eyebrow, taken aback by the statement. Normally it takes people a little while to let me know what they think of me. "You're not the first person I've had tell me that," I chuckle.

"You're an honest liar," she mutters. Then smiles back at me, before turning back to her food. O…kay… I get up, giving Vortash a nod of thanks as I make to leave. The turian appears to have reverted to his usual state of not talking, though, barely even acknowledging me as I brush past and move back into the corridor. Not that it really matters. What the hell does Sensat know about me? No-one except Garrus, Tali and Shiara know who I really am, and Tali and Garrus definitely won't have leaked it.

Shiara…she's a rogue factor. And definitely not beyond playing me. Though her need to try and ensure things don't change would suggest she's not likely to be leaking information about me to a secret lab somewhere. Which means her being a source is pretty much out of the question too. Maybe she's psychic? Nah, ESP's a load of bollocks. The most reasonable explanation is that, somehow, she's reading something off me that shows how uncomfortable I am. I mean, all she seems to know is that I'm inherently lying about something, which means I don't belong. No sign of what I'm supposed to be lying about. She has to be clutching at straws, it's the only thing that makes sense.

Yeah. That'll be it. Garrus definitely couldn't have told anyone, and Tali never would. I've been keeping in touch with her with messages, anyway, the odd bit of mail when one of us gets the time to send something. I checked my outbox the other day, and I've been sending more messages to Wrex over the course of a month than I have to her, which is probably bad. I mean, she has a ton to do on the Flotilla, as I'm constantly reminded, while Wrex apparently just sits on a throne and looks imposing, but still.

I seem to be in more of a long distance relationship with Wrex than I am with her…maybe I should mention that to the krogan when he replies to me. Say the scar on his face really brings out his eyes, just for the reaction.

I dunno what's up with Tali, though. Maybe we're just going through a relationship phase? Everything was so intense in the midst of trying to kill Saren, we never really stopped to take a break like this…

"So, how's our new guest?" Sidonis' voice from behind me causes my train of thought to plummet off a cliff Uncharted 2 style as I turn to look at the turian, his facial markings faintly visible against his pale carapace. Sidonis and I get along well, we go on missions together, all that stuff, but we don't usually talk all that much one to one. Still, a bit of company never hurts.

"Good, considering how we found her," I nod. "Whatever happened to Sensat really messed her up, though."

"Yet she still survived," Sidonis shrugs. "That takes…something. It's surprising. And impressive."

"Most other people have been sympathetic about her," I say, taken aback by Sidonis' attitude. "Rather than expressing admiration."

"Oh, I have sympathy for her," he says, backtracking quickly. "Of course I do. But it takes a special kind of person to go through whatever she's been through and make it out to the other side."

"Survival instinct?"

"Something like that," he nods. "It's an admirable trait. At least when it's controlled. I heard she can handle herself too."

Well, Melanis has obviously been telling _someone _about the mission… "Got that right," I say, chuckling as I think back to the escape. Considering how Grundan and Melanis thought saving her would get us killed, it's pretty ironic that Sensat is probably what saved our lives. "I don't think I've ever seen someone shoot that well. Plus she looks like a decent biotic, even if she's not sure how to control them yet."

"Erash could probably teach her that," Sidonis points out.

"Good thinking," I nod. "Just so she doesn't hurt herself with them. Whole reason she passed out at the base was from pushing herself too hard."

"Exactly," the turian says. "Once she's trained up, she'll be a valuable addition to the team."

Wait, 'once she's trained up'? Oh, crap, it's not just Garrus who wants her in the field… "You really think we should have her out on missions?" I ask. "It's not her fault, but Sensat…she's not exactly right in the head. Whatever happened to her seriously fucked her up."

"I think being a bit crazy is a requirement for this team," Sidonis points out. "You said yourself that she's the best shooter you've ever seen, and another biotic would be useful. Especially since Erash has to hang back sniping."

"The only reason she's a good soldier is because of what they did to her in that base," I counter. "Outside of battle, she's a wreck. In the middle of a firefight, it's like she's completely comfortable. Using her on the team feels like…I dunno, taking advantage."

There's a brief silence, broken by both of us simultaneously sighing. Something tells me this Sensat issue is going to become a focus of debate rather soon… "What does Garrus think?" Sidonis suddenly asks.

"I think he's on your side," I reply. Which is just like him, to be honest. Ends justify the means. It's funny how we can have such radically different views on stuff, yet he's still the closest friend I have. Opposites obviously do attract. "Whatever. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You'll have a hard time convincing Vortash that letting her on missions is a good idea, though."

"Vortash?" Sidonis asks, sounding surprised. "He normally keeps to himself. I don't even think I've heard him say a full sentence."

"Same here, until a couple of minutes ago," I shrug. "Sensat's really got him wound up, though. He burst in when Monteague was giving her a medical examination and just pulled her straight out. Said she was like Amarantha, whatever that's supposed to mean…"

"Amarantha," Sidonis says, his eyes widening. "Ah. Shit. That explains it."

I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "It does?"

"You don't know how we recruited Vortash, do you?" Sidonis asks. Apparently Sidonis was one of the first people Garrus recruited, which means he knows about pretty much every recruitment the squad's ever done. While I know fuck-all, like the guy who turns up late to the party, misses all the introductions, but eats all the food anyway. Wow, that's a convoluted analogy… "I guess it's his business…"

"He's taken it on himself to look after Sensat, so the least we can do is make sure he's okay to do that," I point out. "He's not the only one worried about her. And I'd rather not have Amarantha keeping me up at night, so…"

"Alright, alright, I get it," Sidonis says, flexing his mandibles in annoyance. "When we recruited Vortash, he came to us. He was trying to work out a way to get revenge on the Blood Pack. They…" Sidonis furrows his brow plates. "Actually, the more I think about this, the more it makes sense Vortash is looking out for her. They're both damaged. Vortash was a driver for any group who wanted to hire him, but he managed to piss off enough people for the Blood Pack to be sent after him. I don't know how they found him, but...they killed his wife and child. If I know the Blood Pack, they probably made him watch. He'd just got out of one of the street hospitals when he found us. They'd beaten him, then left him for dead. Leaving him for a dead was a big mistake on their part."

That's…I'd say 'horrible', but that seems like such an understatement in this situation I doesn't seem right. "Was Amarantha his wife?"

"His child," Sidonis says, shaking his head. "We never did get much out of Vortash, but he told us that much. I didn't know she was like Sensat, though."

"No wonder he's so protective of her…" I mutter, thinking back to how he acted. Keeping Sensat away from the rest of us, protecting her, not wanting to see Monteague do any 'tests' on her. Whatever Amarantha was like, from the sounds of it he's reliving her through Sensat. "Fucking hell, I didn't even consider it being like that." I see what he meant about understanding more than I ever could.

"Well," Sidonis says, scratching the back of his fringe awkwardly. "I think Vortash is the best person for her to be around."

"Agreed," I nod. No wonder he's so quiet all the time. Again, it sounds like an understatement, but the Blood Pack really are twats, aren't they? The Blue Suns and Eclipse at least exercise some restraint, but the Blood Pack…they really can be animals. "Hopefully Monteague'll be able to help her more once he's looked through whatever files we got from that base."

"That's actually why I was supposed to find you," Sidonis says, clicking his mandibles together as he remembers. "Laet and Grundan managed to get some information about Williams." Oh, shit, him. In all the excitement with Sensat, I'd almost forgotten there's a weapon smuggler worth two million credits still waddling around somewhere. "Garrus is calling a meeting."

"So we've actually got something to go on?" I say, moving towards the living area with Sidonis as the rest of the squad gradually drifts in. Sensat and Vortash are still over at the kitchen table, and I'm perfectly happy with just leaving them there.

"Things, from what I've heard," Sidonis says, as he sits on the sofa opposite me and I flop down in my usual spot next to Butler. "Wait for Garrus to show up, and we'll see."

"Am I finally getting on a mission?" Butler asks, turning to face me. He's normally quite clean shaven, but there's some stubble growing a bit long on there. "Sitting around all this time is boring the tits off me."

"You're letting yourself go," I chuckle. "Nice beard."

"Fuck you, Shaw," he mutters back, but he grins as he does. "I've no' had the motivation to shave. I've just been sitting around here while you go to parties, shoot up an Eclipse base, and I'm stuck here eating junk food and watching whatever shite I can find. I havnae been out for weeks now!"

"Trigger finger getting itchy?" I ask, smiling. "Your inner psychopath just waiting to get out?"

"You try being benched for a week, see how you like it," he replies, then looks over at Sensat. "What's with the new lass?"

"We got her out of the Eclipse base. From the looks of things, they were doing experiments on her or something, so she's a bit…unstable. But we're working on it," I add reassuringly.

"Alright," he nods. "She looks a bit like someone I used to date, that's all."

I raise an eyebrow, skewing my head to the side to give Butler an odd stare. "Well, you sure know how to pick them," I finally say.

"Everyone here?" Garrus suddenly asks, as the rest of the crew finally finishes filling up the sofas and we all look towards him, our conversations breaking off instantly. "Good. I know other developments have come up from the base, but we still have the issue of two million credits worth of arms smuggler to deal with first. Laet, you're always complaining about not getting paid, so here's your chance to actually make something."

"I'm not on ground missions," Laet points out.

"Alright then, we'll cut you out of your share," Garrus replies instantly, getting a couple of laughs at Laet's expense. "Seriously, though, this is one of the biggest opportunities we've ever had, and we're not going to waste it. The information Eclipse kindly let us borrow gave us some safehouse locations that they use for assets. We've got five here that Williams has stayed at least once."

"Do you really think he's stupid enough to go back to safehouses?" Melanis says.

"There's a good chance he has valuables tied up in them somewhere," Garrus replies. "Credit chits, hidden contact details, all kinds of secrets he might not want falling into the wrong hands. We already know he's greedy, which would give him motivation to try that. Plus, the last place you'd expect him to hide is in plain sight. The mercs are checking spaceports, hotels…"

"But not their own back garden," I finish for him. "I still can't decide whether this guy is a genius or an idiot."

"I think it's a bit of column A, bit of column B," Weaver mutters. "Mostly B."

"There's nine of us who're can go," Garrus says. "And five bases. Ideally I wanted to do this in pairs…but we need to strike all the bases at the same time so he doesn't have any warning. Which means -"

"Someone needs to go alone," Mierin interrupts. "I'll do it."

Shit, Mierin going alone? Really? "No, we need to think about this," Grundan snaps. "Choose the best person rather than a volunteer."

"I am the best person for this!" Mierin replies, genuine passion in his voice as he turns to look at Grundan. "If anyone's going to go alone, it should be someone who can sneak in without being noticed. And I've done things like this before at C-Sec, getting into buildings to try and find leads…" Garrus and I both give him odd looks at that. "What, don't pretend you've never done that!" I glance over at Garrus, and both of us shrug. It's a valid point. "This is the perfect mission for me. Just give me a chance."

He does actually make a good pitch there… "What're you trying to prove?" Grundan demands. Hell, Mierin is basically the only friend he has. No wonder this is winding him up.

"I'm not trying to prove anything," Mierin replies, voice calming as he looks to Garrus. "This is my kind of mission, that's all there is to it." He's right. Mierin's skillset is totally suited to this, and he really could do with a chance to show he's capable of taking the really complex missions.

"Alright. Mierin, you can take one by yourself," Garrus nods, as I catch Grundan glaring at him from across the room. "The rest of us need to partner up."

"Let me guess," Melanis says, "I'm with Ian."

"Actually, no," Garrus replies, causing both Melanis and I to exchange a look of surprise. "I'm going with Ian on this one. Butler, you're with Melanis. Sidonis, you go with Grundan, and Weaver's with Erash. Any problems?" The resounding silence answers his question. "Good. I'll send the relevant safehouse location to each of you, and we can head out. Good luck."

Everyone rises sharply to their feet, crew dispersing to grab gear as I follow the rest of them. I guess the net's finally closing in on our guy…even if we don't find him at the safehouses, the chances of finding a lead are pretty high. Assuming the mercs haven't taken the initiative to check their safehouses either. I'm curious to see what Monteague might turn up about Sensat…but that can wait until we get back.

Williams is on the ropes, that's for sure. We're closing in on him, but so are the merc groups. So we'd best make sure we're the ones landing the finishing blow.

"Ready to bring this guy down?" Garrus asks next to me, pulling out his assault rifle as I ram a clip into my pistol, pull back the slide, and grin.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

**A/N: So, that's a bit more about Sensat revealed. It'll get into a bit more detail once Monteague's done checking her files, which shouldn't take too long. But meanwhile! Finally hunting down Williams, checking out safehouses, in what is obviously going to be a straightforward mission. Pfft.**

**So, a couple of things to quickly mention. First off, BumbleBeePixie did an AWESOME fansong for Masses to Masses 1. There's a link to it on my profile, a link on her profile, and a link here if you remove the spaces: soundcloud . com/bumblebeepixie /ian-vs-the-fansong It's really good.**

**Also, I'm planning on a Christmas special chapter this year (which isn't part of canon, just a bit of fun with the MtM cast). So, the question is, would you like to see it with the SR-1 team (Wrex, Kaidan, Ash, Tali, Liara, Wrex, Shepard, etc.) or the Omega squad? **

**Anyway, thanks for reading once again, and I'll see you next time!**


	28. Ian vs The Fire

Chapter 28

SoulEye: Pressure Cooker (VVVVVV soundtrack)

**A/N: Apologies in advance for any spelling errors, I'm having to get this out now or wait for a good while. I'll go back and make necessary corrections soon, if they exist. Enjoy!**

"I miss all these lazy afternoons we used to spend together," I mutter sarcastically, as Garrus and I duck into another alleyway, sticking to the shadows and jogging towards the safehouse location while I check my omni-tool. Only a couple of minutes away from the place…good. Having to check every corner before we make a move is getting tiresome. There's probably not that much point, since our reputation amongst the citizens of Omega is quite good, but staying out of sight means any passing merc can't get an eyeball on us. Besides, some of the people here would kill their own mothers for a few credits, and Garrus and I are worth significantly more than that without the drawback of being related to them. So, we keep hidden. Normally we just take the rooftops for missions, but this is a residential area, so everything's a tad too stretched out for that to work.

"You're getting the pleasure of my company, stop complaining," Garrus replies, chuckling as we slow the pace in the abandoned alley. "You know how many women are jealous of you right now?"

"I'm sure thousands of them are mourning the fact they're not with you," I mutter, smiling to myself.

"I'm serious," the turian says. "I've heard all the stories about Archangel, the mysterious turian in blue, saving the innocent and punishing the wicked. They say he's handsome, you know."

"I'm pretty sure you spread that rumour yourself," I laugh. "Besides, I thought you hated the whole 'Archangel' thing."

Garrus pauses for a second, presumably to mull it over. "Normally, yeah. Still, if that's how women see me, then there's not much I can do."

"You're incorrigible," I say. I genuinely have missed missions with Garrus…the whole way here, we've been bantering on, just like old times at C-Sec, even with how much more dangerous the situation around here is. Part of me kind of misses the old days, just him and me…but hey, time moves on, right? "Taking advantage of your reputation. I don't hear shit about Deadpool."

"You look bad in comparison to me," Garrus shrugs. "Sorry."

"Screw you," I grin. "So, the safehouse should be just past this alley. How do you want to do this?"

"Blow it up," he replies immediately. "Explosives. It's the only way to make sure." There's a pause where I just stare at him. "I'm joking. We can't make a plan until we see the safehouse."

"You're on form today, aren't you?" I say. "I thought I was supposed to be the funny one."

"Really?" he asks. "I thought I was."

I'm about to list all the reasons why I'm pretty sure he's wrong as we emerge from the alley…then quickly duck back in it at the sight outside. Eclipse shuttle parked outside the blinking dot on my omni-tool map. "Shit," I mutter. "Looks like they took the initiative too."

"There goes taking a look without anyone else here," Garrus sighs, grabbing his sniper rifle and lifting the scope to look at the building. "Yeah, they're already in there." I grab my own rifle, checking through the window…and yep, there's five mercs, asari and salarians, in there, obviously digging around, from the amount of datapads and stuff I can see being discarded furiously.

"If they're here, they might be going to the other safehouses," I say, the sudden realisation hitting me as I reach to activate my radio. "Guys, we've got Eclipse mercs poking around at our location already. Just a heads up."

"_We__'__ve __got __them __here __too,__" _Melanis says a couple of seconds later. _"__We__'__ll __take __care __of __it.__"_

"_They __should __not __pose __a __problem,__" _Erash says, speaking for his team.

"_Same __here.__" _That's Sidonis.

"_I __can __handle __it,__" _Mierin finally adds, sounding confident. Good. He'll probably be able to sneak through…

"I've got a plan," Garrus says, as I turn to look at the building. It's a proper house, surprisingly, since most safehouses tend to be apartments or flats…then again, property prices aren't exactly high on Omega, so I see how Eclipse can afford it. If they even paid at all. It's shaped like a cube, flat roof, obvious windows, unlocked front door. Multiple points of entry.

"That was quick," I say in surprise. "I'm not sure how much I'm going to trust a plan you took seconds thinking of."

"Tactical genius," he replies, tapping his head with a talon. "Do you think you can get up to one of those windows?

There's some obvious climbing spots there… and the windows on the upper floors are pretty low, so it shouldn't be a struggle. "Sure. Why?"

"You get in behind them, and I'll snipe one through the window. That'll turn their attention out here. Basic pincer movement."

"Sometimes the simple plans are the best," I nod. "We can clear them out, then start looking for evidence."

"That's the idea," Garrus nods, bringing up his rifle. "I'll wait for your signal."

Alright, here we go…I sprint onto the street, activating my tactical cloak to shield me from any eyes peeking out of the window as I quickly cover the short distance to the house an materialise at the east side of it. There's a drainpipe on the side, so I can just use that to climb up and hop to the ledge from –

The sound of a shuttle descending outside causes me to suddenly press my back against the wall and draw my pistol in one motion, crouching to try and make myself hidden. More Eclipse, maybe? I slowly edge along the wall, making sure I'm out of any line of sight as I peek around. The logo I'm seeing on the cruiser makes me sigh with frustration, as do the krogan and vorcha climbing out of it, weaponry trained on the front of the house. Of all the luck…

All it takes is one overly-zealous vorcha firing a pistol shot, when suddenly the quiet street becomes a battleground. Assault rifle fire bursts out from the safehouse window, pushing the krogan and vorcha behind their shuttle for cover as they blind-fire back. For fuck's sake, the Blood Pack just _had_to be here, didn't they?

"I think taking a look around without any interruption just went out the window," I say, hiding myself around the corner again as I lift a hand to my ear. "Ideas?"

"_You __can __still __get __in __there_," Garrus insists. "_If __Eclipse __have __been __digging __around __already, __they __might __have __found __what ever __we __need_."

"They're not going to take kindly to me being in there," I point out. "And as soon as they're all dead, the Blood Pack are going to burst in. I can't take a krogan and that many vorcha, as much as I wish I could."

"_Then __you__'__re __not __going __to __have __long __to __look __for __evidence_," Garrus replies. "_Better __move __fast_."

"Easy for you to say, sitting back with the sniper rifle."

"_Riiight. __Like __you__'__ve __never __done __that __before.__"_

"Gimme a few minutes," I sigh, ending the call and looking back up at the window. Alright, just got to move onto the drainpipe…I grab hold, pleased with how firmly attached it is as I pull myself on and scramble up so I'm parallel with the window ledge. It's only a metre or so away, letting me reach out one hand then push both feet off the pipe towards the ledge. I grab it with one hand, then use the other to correct my swinging motion as I plant my feet on the wall. Now to just climb in, and –

The sight of an assault rifle barrel emerging from above makes me duck my head in panic, as a salarian's head follows it…thankfully looking out over the street, rather than me hanging below him. He must be trying to get a better angle on the Blood Pack mercs, the cunning bastard. Still, only a matter of time before he looks down, so…

I pull myself up with one arm, grabbing him with the other by the collar of his armour before he can react, then yank him towards the window and down. He tips over it as I move out of the way of his fall, and the salarian plummets towards the ground headfirst with a short scream…that's cut off with a short snap as he lands on his skull and his neck twists out of shape. Ouch. Well, good to see gravity's still working.

I finally vault over and into the safehouse, taking stock of my surroundings as I ready the tactical cloak. It's sparsely furnished, with a load of empty bookshelves in this room, along with one chair, a corridor leading to the bathroom to my right…and the doorway into what looks like a study ahead of me, where the remaining three Eclipse mercs are hanging out, one of them laid out on the floor, presumably killed by Blood Pack gunfire. Alright, let's make this quick.

They'll have piled up any evidence they've got in that room, so a grenade probably isn't the best idea…I quietly slip out my knife and pistol, then activate my cloak as I move into the room behind them. All three are looking out of the window, but one of the asari is hanging back a bit to reload. You're first. No helmet on them, leaving her neck completely open for my knife. God, that sounds so creepy…

I quickly jab it into the side of her neck, causing her to let out a small death gurgle that's enough to attract the attention of her salarian and asari friend. Too bad it's too late. The asari is dead before she can even turn around with a pistol shot to the head, and the salarian follows the same fate before he can even lift his rifle at me. I step back from the mess that took less than two seconds to create, lifting one corner of my mouth in a grimace at the blood stains now covering the room. I'm getting far too good at this.

The distinct sound of no weapons being fired draws me back to the situation at hand, as I hear the Blood Pack team slowly emerge from behind their cover. Gotta get looking! I practically dive at the desk the Eclipse people were using to stack stuff, flicking through datapads and other things frantically. Couple of credit chits, which I'm fairly sure aren't going to have two million on them, and a few pointless emails…shit, if there's anything here, no way am I going to find it in time.

"_Get __out, __now!__" _Garrus hisses in my ear. _"__They__'__re __coming __through __the__door!__" _Ah, fuck! I turn around, looking back at the window I came in through. Hopefully the other teams have a bit more luck –

"Do you hear that?" I hear a krogan voice grunt, as their footsteps stop at the bottom of the house. Bollocks, how the fuck did they hear me?

"Yessss," a vorcha hisses. "A shuttle." Eh? Another shuttle? I take a look out the window again, craning my neck up at the sky. In time to see a blue coloured vehicle descending towards the street rapidly.

"Blue Suns," I mutter. "Well, I'll be damned…"

"You're dead, Suns!" the krogan roars, and I hear a shotgun being blasted at the shuttle while a load of mercenaries pile out of it. Gotta be about eight of them…shit, this street is gonna turn into a warzone seriously quick. Still, playing them off against each other buys me some more time! I turn back to the evidence pile, flinching as I hear a bullet fly into the window frame. More crap, more crap, more crap, more – aha! About two thirds down the pile, I pick up a small business card. Private spaceport? It's kinda flimsy, but I imagine Williams is going to want to get off Omega sooner or later, considering everyone on it wants him dead. And if he's got the contact details of somewhere…that's worth looking into.

"I think I've got something," I say, checking the final bits on the table. Nothing. Ah well. "Spaceport location."

"_It __doesn__'__t __look __like __the __mercs __are __getting __anywhere __soon_," Garrus replies, and I peek out of the window to see them still returning fire. Looks like they're at a stalemate…plus I can see one Blue Suns merc with his fingers on his ear. Safe bet he's calling for reinforcements. The time window for slipping away is shrinking a bit…though it's gonna be entertaining to watch these guys tear each other apart. _"__Alright. __Head __out __here, __and __we__'__ll __rendezvous __where __I __was __when __I __left.__"_

"On my way." I jog out with the card, vaulting out of the window and lowering myself back down to the ground. Okay, now to get back to Garrus without being brutally murdered in the crossfire…I activate the cloak, then move, sprinting around the edge of the battle. I'm materialising by the time I reach the alley, but the mercs are too occupied with killing each other to notice me slip away towards Garrus in the relative darkness. The turian turns to face me as I approach…and I see a familiar bottle of something in his hand.

"Are you seriously drinking a Tupari?"

"Hey, I had nothing else to do," he replies indignantly. "I was expecting us to stake out the house first, so I brought one along."

"Where's mine?"

He chuckles at that. "Melanis' orders. She's in charge of your diet."

"Here's what I've got," I sigh, as I head up to him and stick the card out. Damn, Melanis manages to screw me over even when she's not around… "Everything else was useless."

"We already know that the mercenaries are watching all the spaceports, private or not," Garrus mutters. "Still, if he could use it to escape, we should look."

"You want to head over there now?" I ask.

"Scouting it out isn't a two man job," he says, shaking his head. "No. You go and help out Mierin, I'll take a look at this spaceport and see what I can find." Aww…he's ditching me. Then again, Mierin might be having bother since he's only by himself, so Garrus does have a point.

"I'll head over to him," I nod. "Keep me posted on this spaceport, okay?"

"And you keep me posted about Mierin," he replies. "Hopefully he'll find more to help us than a business card."

I shrug. "It's better than nothing." And with that, I turn and jog down the alley, Garrus' light chuckle following me as I switch the radio channel to Mierin. "Hey man, how're you holding up?"

"_Blood __Pack, __Blue __Suns __and __Eclipse __are __tearing __up__ the __street __outside,__" _he replies, sounding fairly pleased. _"__But __I __managed __to __slip __in __during __the __confusion.__"_

"I'm on my way to you," I say quickly, picking up the pace at the sound of all three mercs groups killing each other in close proximity to him. "If you need to get out, I can cover you once I get there. You sure you're alright?"

"_I__'__m __fine,__" _he says enthusiastically. _"__It__'__s__…__exciting.__"_

I chuckle to myself as I run. "Are you actually enjoying this?"

"_There__'__s __a__ thrill __to __it,__" _Mierin says, laughing. There's definite worry in that laugh, but the good kind. Euphoric. He's feeling under pressure…but enjoying every second of it. That's my man. _"__Anyway, __the __mercs __aren__'__t __getting __anywhere __soon, __so __I__'__ve __got __plenty __of __time __to __look __around. __I__'__ll __see __you __here.__"_

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," I say, grinning as I hang up and put in an extra burst of speed. Our little Mierin, getting all grown up…I feel kinda proud of him, heh.

I head onto a main street for a bit, sticking in the shadows of the buildings as I hear gunfire crack through the air from all around, echoes from the distance interspersed with the sharper, clearer sounds from nearby. Looks like all the mercs are out for the party. Wherever Williams is, he's gotta be shitting himself right about now.

That is a bit odd, though…I mean, the places we're looking at are all Eclipse warehouses, and the only way we knew to find them is because we broke into an Eclipse base. So, that means the only people who should really know about the safehouses locations is us and Eclipse…which doesn't explain how the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack both showed up like that. At roughly the same time too. Yeah, that's definitely not right…

"Garrus," I say, activating the radio as I keep moving. "Did you think about how the other two merc groups got here?"

"_I __was __literally __just __thinking __that,__" _he replies immediately. Great minds think alike… _"__It__'__s __not __like __they __all __share __intel. __I __guess __they __could __have __all __broken __into __Eclipse __bases __too__…"_

"Do you really believe that?"

There's a small pause on Garrus' end. "_No. __I__'__m __not __too __far __from__ the __safehouse__…__I __could __go __back __and __see __if __I __can __find __anything __there. __This __spaceport __lead __isn__'__t __high __priority.__"_

"If you think you can take a look around back there without too much risk, do it," I reply. "Something's not adding up for me."

"_Same here. Our instincts aren't usually wrong, are they?"_

"Not if both of us have the same hunch."

"_I__'__ll __check __it __out,__" _Garrus says. _"__You __keep __going __to __Mierin, __though.__"_

"Hey, he sounds like he's doing well enough without me," I chuckle. "He's finally getting into this whole vigilante business."

"_Beats __him __being __nervous __all __the __time,__" _Garrus chuckles back. _"__Still, __go __and __see __him.__"_

"I know, I know," I say, hanging up the line as I check my omni-tool map. Ten minutes to Mierin, if I keep up the pace. That should do just fine.

#############

Alright, just two more minutes. Mierin's safehouse is more in the industrial area, so I've finally been able to get back onto the rooftops and do my thing. I hit the lip of a roof, hurling myself over the relatively small gap with my arms out to keep my balance as I drop onto the surface below and roll through. The sound of gunfire is getting noticeably closer…meaning I'm getting very close indeed. Better make sure they don't spot me coming from the roof.

I look down over the edge, searching for some kind of fire escape. Every building has one, just need to drop down onto the ladder. It'll probably scare the guy hurrying along below me half to death when I jump down, but from his weight, the act of running will probably do that anyway, especially with that bag he's holding.

Wait a second.

Fat guy.

Running away from a safehouse.

With a bag.

No way…I turn my head to look at the guy, zooming in with my visor. Holy _shit,_it's him! Williams! My first instinct is to go for the sniper rifle and incapacitate him with a leg shot or something…but there's a risk that's gonna kill him, and if we want to make sure we get those credits, we need him alive. He's gotta take priority over Mierin. Besides, the salarian said he was fine by himself.

"Mierin, I just got distracted by something,"I say, turning back around and assessing the jump onto the roof I came from. It's a bit higher than my level…but the gap's small enough for me to grab and pull myself up on. If I climb down to street level, Williams could get away by the time I'm down there. "I think I've got a positive ID on Williams."

"_Are __you __serious?__" _he asks, previously excitable tone returning. _"__Erm__…__okay, __what __should __I __do?__"_

"If you see an opening to get out, take it," I reply, then take a run and launch myself back at the other rooftop, grabbing hold of the edge with a grunt of effort and pulling myself up. "Looking for evidence about where he is seems a little counter-intuitive now, don't you think?"

"_The __street__'__s __still __crowded, __but __I__'__ll __see __what __I __can __do,__" _Mierin says. _"__Good __luck.__" _Alright, Williams just took a left onto the main street…which runs parallel to my roof, meaning I can follow him without too much bother. As soon as I see a way down, he's mine.

"_Hey,__" _Garrus says, hailing me over the radio, _"__I __managed __to __swipe __a __datapad __off __that __krogan __the __Blood __Pack __sent __in.__"_

"Kinda busy right now," I mutter back.

"_According __to __this, __the __reason __they __were __here __is __because __someone __gave __them __an __anonymous __tip__off __that __Williams __was __using __this __safehouse,__" _he says, continuing unabated.

"They were probably after some of the money," I reply. "Is there a point to this, because I'm following -"

"_But __think __about __it,__" _Garrus adds. _"__I __mean, o__ne __tip __off, __that __might __be __understandable. __But __the __Blue __Suns __and __Blood __Pack __arrived __at __each __safehouse, __at __the __same __time. __Whoever __gave __them __the __tip__off __on __our __safehouse __must __have __done __the __same __for __all __the __other __ones. __And __the __only __people __who __know __about __the __safehouses __are __us, __Eclipse, __and__…"_

"Williams himself," I finish, staring down at the fat man below me. Who's now stopped, and is reaching into the bag. Oh, I'm not getting a good feeling from this, at all. Why would he want every merc group tearing apart safehouses at the same time looking for him? Possibly getting them to kill each other, sure, but there has to be more. Some way to really cause havoc.

My mind rushes to a conclusion, just as Williams pulls the detonator out of his bag.

"Everyone, get the hell out of the safehouses!" I yell down the mic…then stagger back from the sound of an explosion, air lit up bright as a plume of flame erupts from the safehouse I was just running to before.

Mierin. Oh, _shit._

"_All __teams, __status __report, __now!__" _Garrus snaps. Williams is already running again, as a quick look back shows me, but I'm still staring at Mierin's safehouse in shock. If I go back to check on him, I'll lose Williams…but I can't just leave him there, right?

"_You __didnae __say __there__'__d __be __explosions, __Garrus!__" _Butler replies quickly. _"__Melanis __and __I __were __already __on __our __way __out __when __it __went __off.__"_

"_We __were __already __on __our __way __back __to __base,__" _Sidonis says. _"__Grundan__'__s __fine __too.__"_

"_And __we __were __still __working __out __the __best __way __in,__" _Weaver adds for him and Erash. _"__I __suppose __that__'__s __pointless __now.__"_

A silence descends upon the frequency. "Mierin?" I finally ask. No reply. There's still a signal from his suit, I can see it from my HUD on the visor…but he's not talking. Fuck Williams, he comes first. "I'm going to find him. I just spotted Williams in my area, heading south-east." I turn around, breaking into a full sprint as I move towards the fire escape on this building.

"_That__'__s __towards __the __spaceport __we __found __out __about,__" _Garrus gasps, as I throw myself onto the ladder and slide down, using the edges to control my descent. _"__I__'__ll __send __the __co-ordinates __to __your __omni-tools, __move __to __intercept __him!__"_

The squad all work out approach tactics and where best to try and cut off Williams, but I'm barely listening as I pound towards the safehouse as soon as I touch the ground. It's in flames, windows all blown out and smoke pouring out as I charge across the street the merc groups were using as a battleground. They've been knocked about by the explosion, and no-one's in a fit state to try and fight me as I sprint through the middle, opening the door to the building and diving straight in.

If I wasn't wearing a helmet, the smoke inhalation would probably have killed me in seconds. The whole house is ablaze, the cheap panelling used as the floor managing to catch alight along with the furniture in the room I'm in. Materials are supposed to avoid things like this happening…but in the cheaper houses, builders still use cheaper materials to make things. Cheap materials aren't fireproof. And this whole house is created from them. Shit, it could collapse…

"Mierin!" I bellow, shielding myself from the heat that I can feel even though the armour as I dash across the living room and towards the stairs. I'm barely make it under the arched doorway leading into the main hall with the stairs, when it suddenly collapses behind me, the whole wall collapsing in flames and throwing up a huge cloud of ash at me. When it clears, I can see the rubble in flames, and blocking the front door. Fuck, not getting out that way…

The stairs feel far too wobbly as I move up them, fire taking its toll, but they hold as I move into the upstairs area. Whatever explosives Williams used, they were incendiaries, rather than your regular explosives…which means Mierin could still be alive. "Where are you?" I shout, moving through a room decorated with a lovely flaming chair and wilted flower as I stare into a windowless study…and there he is. Mierin, laid on the floor…but from the rise and fall of his chest from under the armour, still breathing. Thank Christ.

"Hey, you alright?" I say, dropping to my knees and rolling him over, the movement causing the salarian to shake his head as his helmet stares up at me. "Come on, this place is gonna come down any second!"

"I don't…" Mierin gasps, still obviously trying to clear his head as he sits up. "What happened?"

"Williams set off a bomb, blah blah blah, now isn't the time to explain," I say frantically, helping Mierin to his feet. A glance back in the corridor shows the stairs now on fire. FUCK. There's a window on the other side of the house, about ten metres away…we should be able to make that. "Can you move?"

"I'm fine," Mierin nods. "Just a bit dazed."

"That'll have to do," I mutter, turning around as he finally rights himself and jogging out into the hallway again to head for the window. I feel the floor bucking as soon as I walk out again, floor literally tensing under my steps as I move towards the window. Another step, and it flexes even more. Fuck, this is gonna break! I take a third step…and with a horrible wrenching sound, a whole five metre long section of floor falls.

Shit! I'm already halfway across, the sound and feeling under my feet alerting me enough to dive forward and onto a safe patch of ground near the window, staring down at the floor below. It's basically become an inferno, the whole placed with flames that lick up, seemingly reaching for me, hoping to drag me into their embrace. Mierin's still standing in the study, staring at the gap in shock as he stands in the doorway.

"The whole floor's gonna fall!" I yell at him, moving as close to the edge as I can and holding out an arm. "Jump, I'll catch you!"

Mierin stands nervously at the edge of the study…and I can see the floor under his feet beginning to smoke from the heat. Shit, going to have to encourage him into this. "Remember what you said before, Mierin? About this being exciting?" He nods his head, still looking scared. "Well, this is all part of it, yeah? I've got you." Mierin keeps staring at me. "You scared?"

"Terrified," he shouts back, voice trembling. "But I can do this. Are you ready?"

Bollocks, I can see the floor threatening to snap under him anyway. "Jump!" I shout. With a mad cry, Mierin hurls himself forwards, diving towards my hand. I watch him arc through the air, peaking two metres away from me…before he starts to drop, and the salarian plummets towards the ground headfirst with a short scream…that's cut off with a short snap as he lands on his skull and his neck twists out of shape.

.

.

.

.

I'm left staring at my hand, then down at him, shock leaving me unable to move as I stare down at the unmoving salarian. "Mierin," I whisper, then it turns into a shout, repeating over and over. No sign of movement, as the fire spreads to him, and the floor under me jolts once again, dragging me back to reality. Get out. I have to get out. I spring to my feet, turning to face the window as I dash towards it and try to open it. Locked, shit! I pull out my handgun, putting three bullets into it, then punch as hard as I can, my fist shattering through the glass. I jump up and out, horrendous tearing noise of the floor giving away following me as I drop and land heavily on my hands and feet.

I've got no choice but to sprint away, as one of the outer walls collapses in on itself, and I keep running until I reach the relative safety of an alleyway, away from any mercenary reinforcements, away from…that place. I lower my helmet, coughing into the filthy Omega air with whatever bits of smoke managed to get into my system, as the fire rages on in the distance. With Mierin's corpse still inside. "Shit…" I mutter under my breath, leaning on the alley wall as I stare. One little jump, one thing…and he's dead. No saying goodbye, no comforting him, just the cold, hard truth that his life ended. I keep expecting him to walk out of the ruined building, burned and coughing but alive…but he's not. He didn't deserve this. No-one does, but…especially not him.

Williams killed him to save his own skin. Instead of the sadness I was expecting…I just feel anger. Real, pure anger. That bastard just jogged away when he condemned Mierin to death. Fuck the two million credits, fuck damaging the mercs, he is gonna pay for what he did.

I take one last look at the building, closing my eyes…then open them, looking at the blinking point on my map showing Williams' spaceport.

He's a fucking dead man.

**A/N: Hey, I know some people have been saying the story is a little bit doom and gloomy at the moment, so this is just me letting you know that I'm gonna try and cheer things up for y'all soon. But this chapter has been coming for a while now, so...yeah, things will get happier. Just a heads up.**

**Anyway, we finish up the case against Williams next chapter. It'll be a good one. **

**I don't want to make the A/N overly long after what just happened there, so...thanks for reading, reviewing, and I'll see you next chapter. Peace.**


	29. Ian vs The Fat Guy

Chapter 29

Fall Out Boy: This Ain't a Scene, it's an Arms Race

Revenge.

Definiton; the act of inflicting hurt or harm on someone for a wrong suffered at their hands.

That sounds…soulless. Like a methodical thing people do every day, as simple as going to buy some milk, or ordering in pizza. Defining the word makes it sound rational, and what I'm feeling is anything but.

I think Francis Bacon once said something about a man who seeks revenge keeping his wounds open. Charlotte Bronte said that vengeance felt good to swallow, but leaves a poisoning after-flavour. History is full of people claiming that true revenge is turning the other cheek, offering forgiveness, and that it's something to be avoided at all costs.

The truth?

Those people are full of shit. Saying the words is easy enough; I know I've done it more than my fair share of times. But when you see your friend die in front of your eyes, and you know who's responsible…there's no reason to hold back. No reason at all, really, except to somehow make things right through revenge.

A small thought flickers in the back of my mind that I should be feeling tired as I sprint through the streets, previous care about not being seen thrown to the wind while I head towards the spaceport Williams is on his way to. I ignore the thoughts of my fatigue, feeling my breath rattling in my lungs as I pant for air, but the adrenaline from the fire and what happened keeps me going regardless. I haven't told the others about Mierin yet, my immediate concern set on getting to Williams before he can leave Omega.

Williams. I can see his face in my mind, the smug grin on his face as he pressed that detonator, knowing he'd been playing everyone after him the whole time. Mierin never deserved to die, but that fat coward shouldn't have been the one to kill him. My fists bunch up tightly as I run, and if it weren't for the gloves my nails would be digging in enough to make me bleed. Williams is a dead man for what he did. Someone who should already be dead. Melanis and I didn't kill him in the hotel, and I could have shot him when I was on the rooftop, stopped this before Mierin died. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice.

I finally round the last corner to the spaceport, previously narrow streets opening up into a wider area on the fringes of the station, pointing out into the vast expanse of space. If he gets out there, we lose him forever. That's not happening. "Where are you all?" I manage to gasp into the radio as I reach the gate of the compound, kicking at them in frustration when I realise they're locked. "Where's Williams?"

"_We__'__re __scaling __the __wall __on __the __left. __We __caught __sight __of __him __going __through __the __main __gate, __and __it __closed __behind __him. __No __time __to __hack __it,__" _Garrus explains, and I immediately run alongside the port's perimeter, swinging around the corner to see the others helping each other over.

"You got here quick," Sidonis comments as I rush over to them, glad the helmet is hiding the look of fury I know is on my face. Why the fuck is everyone standing around, we need to get in there!

"Get me up there," I demand sharply, looking at the top of the wall and then at his talons.

"Okay…" Sidonis mutters, sounding weirded out as he gets ready to boost me up. Everyone seems to have been waiting for me to get here, but we don't have time for this! Williams has already had enough chances without us giving him extra seconds to escape!

I clamber up onto the turian's talons, then jump up at the wall, ignoring Sidonis' sharp grunt from the unexpected force of me jumping off him. "Ian," Garrus suddenly says, just as I reach the top of the wall. "Where's Mierin?"

I look back briefly, then hop over, ignoring the question as I roll out of the landing and quickly take in the spaceport. I can hear Erash quietly say 'spirits…' from behind the wall, but it doesn't put me off. I can't think about what happened to Mierin now, I need to stay focused on Williams. Revenge is about the only keeping me from just breaking down. There's a guard station and control tower by the gate, big open area for the ship to dock in…and a ship that's already got lights turned on in said dock, presumably preparing to launch. _Him. _It's a sizeable thing, big cargo bay attached on the back, presumably for the weapons the bastard steals and plays people for. This ends here.

"Williams!" I yell, sprinting at the ship in blind fury, my legs barely even lifting from fatigue as I put all my effort into getting to him. The decontamination chamber is still attached, meaning he can't pull away, but the grav locks are disengaged, and that chamber can be released at any moment.

I can hear the other crew members shouting my name as I hit the stretch of the port that runs parallel to the length of his ship, legs refusing to go any faster…as I see the decontamination chamber begin to detract while I'm still thirty metres away. "Face me!" I scream, sliding to a halt as the chamber finally retracts into the docking bay just as I reach the edge, door into Williams' ship parallel to me. Even in my rage, I know I can't jump the seven metres there to get to them, and I'll be spaced by the time I can hack the door lock. I pull out my pistol, trying to fire at the cockpit window as I continue yelling. "Stop running, you fucking coward, face me! _Face __me!_" The engines begin to fire up, just as my pistol clicks empty, the thought of reloading barely crossing my mind as I continue pulling the trigger. He's going to escape, just like Saleon did…

With a sudden lurch, the ship is suddenly pulled back from its launch position, gravity locks suddenly engaging as the ship settles back into position with a horrible screeching noise. What the fuck? I swivel around, seeing the rest of the squad running towards me…and Grundan leaving the control tower as the decontamination chamber automatically reaches out again. Part of me wants to shout my thanks, but it's over-ruled as I stare at the decontamination chamber impatiently. He's in there, trapped like a cornered rat. Which means he's going to bite when we get into the ship.

A talon on my shoulder suddenly snaps me out of my thoughts, as Garrus looks down at me, visor of his helmet boring into mine. "He's dead?" the turian asks simply, his voice heavy. I simply nod in reply, feeling the anger beginning to switch to sadness as I think about him falling, the life in his eyes being snuffed out in an instant…but the man who's responsible is just in the building next to me. And just like that, the anger returns. "How?" the turian asks.

"He killed Mierin," I reply, turning to face the now fully extended decontamination chamber. That's all I really need to say. There's a mixture of sharp intakes of breath and sighs from the squad, Erash muttering a quiet prayer as I hear Butler murmur that he's 'gonnae kill that fat bastard'.

"You need to keep a level head," Melanis says, moving up to stand next to Garrus. "I know what you're feeling right now, but you're going to get yourself killed if you run off on your own like this."

"I didn't realise you cared," I mutter, managing to retain sarcasm from somewhere.

"No-one wants Williams getting away with this, alright?" she says firmly, ignoring my comment. "Trying to do this by yourself is suicide. Trust me, I know."

"Right," I nod, though the words barely even sink in as I turn to the door. "We need that open. We can't let him prepare."

"Grundan," Garrus barks, signalling to the door. The batarian's just staring down at the floor, fists balled up as his arms tremble. "Grundan!" His head finally shoots up. "We need the door hacked." Mierin was the closest thing he had to a friend on the squad, no wonder he seems so detached…

"We are all with you on this," Erash says, standing next to me. The simple show of solidarity as the rest of the crew nods makes my rage simmer. Normally, revenge is something one person goes after by themselves…but this isn't just that. Everyone else wants this too. Having everyone behind me makes things seem that bit more justified. Not that I need any more justification for this.

"The space in there is going to be tight," Garrus says, facing the squad as Grundan makes the lock turn green. "I'm narrowing down the squad. Ian, Weaver, Melanis, you're up." Good thing I'm coming with them, or else I probably would have exploded or something out here. The four of us stack up at the door, as the others back away.

"He could have set up a trap," Weaver grunts, as Garrus reaches for the door control. "Careful."

"I know," the turian replies sharply, temper obviously beginning to fray as he opens the door then quickly ducks back as it opens. I know his personality, and combined with how he feels about the squad in ME2…he'll be feeling responsible for Mierin. Not as much as I do, though. I could've caught him, told him to find another way out, shot Williams before any of this happened…

"We're clear," Melanis says, apparently the only person who's able to keep her usual level, professional tone as she moves into the ship, Garrus by her side while Weaver and I bring up the rear. I seriously hope Williams tries something…gives us an excuse to shoot him. Though, given the circumstances, we already have a perfectly good one.

The interior of the ship is as cramped as Garrus predicted, while we all stealthily move forward. One main corridor leading towards the cockpit, with branching areas to the sides dimly lit as we sneak, low roof and tight walls giving the impression of pushing in on us. No sign of Williams at the front of the ship…Weaver's estimation of a trap sound about right. Fitting, considering how much of a coward our opponent's proven himself to be.

"Where's he hiding?" Garrus growls under his breath, assault rifle raised as he slips to the front of the group.

"It doesn't matter that he's running from us," Weaver mutters back. "He's just going to die tired."

"We should check those side rooms," Melanis suggests, causing Garrus and Weaver to turn back as I brush past them, still staring at the seat in the cockpit. I bet he's hiding behind that…I lift my pistol apprehensively, stalking forward, blocking out all the sound of the other three fussing behind me. Finally, you're out of places to go, Williams…

What I'm _not _expecting is a pistol butt to come swinging at me from the side as I move into the cockpit area, smacking off my helmet with a loud clang that dazes me, as I turn to see…him. Fat face looking at me in a mixture of desperation and anger as he swings again. Even in my dazed state, I've fought significantly more skilled opponents.

The second swing is telegraphed so much I could've fixed myself a cup of tea by the time it connected. Fortunately, I'm not a huge fan of tea, meaning I duck under the blow rather than looking for a kettle and slug him hard in the stomach. Contrary to popular belief, being fat clearly _doesn__'__t _mean you can't feel punches, due to the gasp Williams spits out as he doubles over and backs up, lifting the pistol at me. Ordinarily, I might have backed up at that point and pulled mine too, but anger forces me on. I grab his arm before he can fire, one shot flying into the roof as he squeezes the trigger anyway and tries punching me in the side.

He follows that punch with one more, then another, making me grunt with pain as I struggle with his wrist with both hands. I can hear Garrus and the others aiming their weapons behind me as I take a quick step back, still holding his wrist, then hop forward and slam my knee into his balls. Williams lets out a high-pitched yelp, wrist going slack temporarily. Long enough for me to grab his thumb, wrench it back, twist his hand around and…

The yelp turns into a short scream as a snapping noise reverberates around the room, and the smuggler drops to one knee as I wrench the pistol from his grasp then smack him with it, sending him sprawling to the ground. The snapping noise makes me freeze for a second, thinking about Mierin in the house, the exact same sound when he hit the floor…

Williams unceremoniously spits out a glob of blood onto the floor, bringing me back to reality as he tries to get back up. Not happening. I'm about to kick him in the side, when Garrus barges past and just does it himself, significantly harder than what I was going to do. Well, that suits me fine… "Stay down," Melanis growls, as the four of us surround him and Williams cautiously rolls onto his back and looks up at the helmets staring down at him. We must look terrifying, given the expression of fear on his face, eyes widened, hands trembling. Good.

"Wait…Archangel?" he says, Southern drawl more apparent now we're talking up close. "Dreadschool?" My hands curl up into fists at that…but we're all staring at him in intimidating silence, so I resist the urge to shout at him. "Y'all got this wrong! I'm not the one you want!"

"Oh, is that it?" Garrus asks sardonically. "Really? So, you're _not _the weapons smuggler everyone on Omega's been chasing?"

"Yeah, that's me," he says, still wincing from the kneeing I gave him. "But I ain't working for the mercs! They give me their orders, but -"

"You pass on some of the weapons, then take the rest and pocket the money from selling them on yourself," I snap, glaring down at the loathsome thing. First he tries to kill me, now he tries to talk himself out of it. Always trying to get away, even when he's cornered… "See, Williams, like it or not, you _did _help the mercs out. You're just too much of a bitch to have done it properly."

"No, no, that's not it!" he replies furiously. "I'm like you guys, I got sick of them pushing me around! I wanted to damage them myself, a little rebellion, you know?"

"Bullshit," Melanis says bluntly. "If you were doing this for to damage the mercs, I'm sure the two million credits you stole for yourself are just coincidence, huh?"

Williams sits in silence for a second, eyes flitting between us all rapidly for any kind of sympathy, even as he tries to come up with his next lie. "Look, my fight was against the mercs," he says. "You weren't part of the plan. Now, just let me escape, no harm done, and maybe we can all work something out."

"The credits," Weaver says, voice cool and calm, though from knowing the guy so long I've noticed whenever he sounds truly at peace, it means he's fucking furious. "Where are they?"

"I got my account logged in on one of the terminals," he gasps. "Y'all take the money, I don't need it." That's everything we need out of him…and he still doesn't know that he killed Mierin. He has to know what he's done before anything happens.

"You said 'no harm done'," I say slowly, still feeling his pistol in my hand. Weapon's probably smuggled itself. Well, there's palpable irony there. "See, that's not quite right. Remember those bombs you set off?"

"Yeah, to get the mercs banded together," he nods. "They all came to the safehouses. Must've killed a few of the bastards, eh?" The smile on his face shows he's talking about the merc killing to try and be friendly…and it fades when none of us react back.

"You killed one of us." The words come out simply enough, but the effect they have on both myself and Williams is profound. His expression changes to one of horror, the full gravity of the situation finally revealing itself to him as the four of us tighten the circle. And the gravity of it hits me too. He killed Mierin. He's in front of me. I have his gun.

"I swear, that wasn't supposed to happen," he stutters, fear obvious as he looks at me. "You gotta understand, I'm sorry, that -"

I barely even hear the shot's report, and suddenly there's a smoking gun in my hand as Williams falls back limply, blood and brain matter splattered behind his skull as his head hits the deck with a crack. We all stand in shocked silence for a few seconds, just staring at the smuggler's corpse, before three heads turn to look at me.

He's dead. Justice has been served. Should I be feeling…something? I was expecting uplifting music, tears on my part, a sense of purpose, or satisfaction. All I'm really getting is the sense that all the blood is seriously going to affect the resale value of this ship. "How do you feel?" Melanis asks, tone of her voice suggesting…caution.

"I don't know," I shrug, looking at the gun dumbly, before I just toss it on top of Williams. "I…" With Williams suddenly gone, it properly hits me. Mierin's really dead, isn't he? Revenge was the only thing really stopping me thinking about it, but with that buffer suddenly removed, the whole thing comes flooding in. For fuck's sake, he's gone… "I feel shit," I say, honestly.

"He deserved everything he got," Garrus says firmly, glaring down at William's corpse before looking back towards the entrance to the ship. "Eye for an eye." I shiver when he says that. Normally, I'm the one encouraging him not to say things like that…but all I can think is that I'm glad at least someone's getting closure from this.

"The mercs will work out where he was docked eventually," Weaver says, low voice filling the room. Yep, he doesn't seem particularly bothered either. I mean, I don't give a fuck that Williams is dead, but there's a horrible feeling lingering around that it hasn't really solved the problem for me. I just don't know what the 'problem' is. "We need to get out of here."

"I'll transfer the credits to us," Garrus nods. Shit, I'd practically forgotten…this whole thing boils down to stolen money, doesn't it? "The mercs aren't going to be happy."

"Yay," I say weakly, noticing Melanis looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I look away from her, taking in Williams' body one last time, hoping for the sudden sense of victory to fill me up. Nope, still nothing, except some kind of grim satisfaction that he got the justice Omega can deliver. Heck, I felt about this good taking down Mirki'it. I notice Garrus move into one of the side rooms quickly, and I move into the same place too as he accesses the terminal. I can see it's logged into William's account. Well, at least he was honest about one thing.

"It's all there," Garrus mutters. "Two million. More or less."

"Do you think we should take it?" I suddenly ask. I'm not really sure what brings it about, but the words are out before I can think about it. Garrus tilts his head to look at me, talons still hovering over the terminal.

"What?"

"It's just…" Hell, if it hadn't been for the money, I would've just shot Williams from the roof and we'd have been home free. This is the reason I held off. And what gave him the chance to kill Mierin. I don't say any of that, though, settling for a simple "never mind". "You're right, it doesn't matter."

"If we don't take it, the mercs will," he says simply, starting the account transfer to look back at me. He really does see the world in black and white, doesn't he? I feel closer to Garrus than anybody else. I trust him with my life, my secrets, everything. But it's times like this…it feels like I don't understand him as well as I think I do, increasingly so over the time we've spent on Omega. I mean, the consideration that this money is what got us into this mess doesn't seem to cross his mind at all. Though this is probably the part of his personality I just prefer to forget about. "There. It's done."

"Alright," I nod. I don't feel overly pleased about it…but I suppose the money ought to come in handy. We just got two million credits, and I killed the man who killed Mierin. Damn it, why don't I feel more hyped? I'm not down about it, but not jumping for joy either. "Weaver's right. We need to get back to base."

Garrus nods, turning around to face me. The turian obviously reads my body language, as he places a talon on my shoulder and looks down at me. "Are you okay?" he asks, concern creeping into his flanged tone.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," I reply quickly, though the contact with him does feel…nice. Reassuring. "Let's go."

"We served justice for Mierin today," Garrus says, as he steps away from me and towards the door, before pausing to look at me again. "You should be proud." With that, he sets off, leaving me standing by myself in Williams' ship, drained of credits. Stealing from the thief. Nice.

"Proud," I mutter to myself. "Right."

I take one last look around the ship, back at Williams laying there with his pistol on top of his chest…then set off behind the others without another word.

**A/N: Shorter chapter than usual, I know, but that seemed like the best point to end it. I don't want to pan things out to reach 5000 words and have a weak ending as a result when I can have a stronger chapter with a smaller word count. **

**Well, Williams is dead, but Ian's definitely not feeling…well, hyped about it. Which'll be looked at next chapter (no angst, I promise, it's not like that), along with more info about Sensat, more character interactions, and the epilogue chapter of the case! Hurray! Then after that, I'll get to work on the Christmas special chapter.**

**So, thanks for reading and reviewing once again, you're awesome for doing it and continuing to support the story. See y'all next chapter!**


	30. Ian vs The Insomnia

Chapter 30

One Night Only: Feeling Fine

Silence was the main theme of the shuttle ride home. None of the usual celebrations after a successful mission, hugging, high fives, the excited banter about how we're going to spend the two million that I was expecting. Yes, we dealt the mercs a blow today, and yes, we served Williams justice. But only after one of us died, I executed someone in cold blood, and the money we did get feels kinda dirty when I think about it.

The whole adrenaline rush of revenge is wearing off, instead replaced by the more weary feeling of just being plain tired. Grief, too, but not overwhelmingly so. I'm not closing on myself like normal, but…I just don't really feel like doing much. Down rather than out, but I dunno how long it's going to take to actually get back up again. It's giving me a lot of thinking time, anyway. I've not actually managed to sort anything out by thinking, but I've done plenty of it.

Could've just shot Williams before he set off that explosive. That's a big thing. If I'd made sure Mierin stayed closer to me, we could've both made it out of there. Williams' death, I can deal with…but actually killing him myself? That's a new one. And I'm not sure I like it.

"We're here," Garrus suddenly says, snapping me out of my stupor as the shuttle touches down at the base. The shuttle's full to capacity, as I squeeze myself out from in-between Butler and Weaver and hop out, unconsciously glancing up at the bunks, just visible at the balcony overlooking the bridge into the house. Mierin's stuff is probably still up there…fuck, we're gonna need to send that back to his relatives. If he even had any.

"Are we having a team meeting?" I hear Sidonis ask quietly as we walk back into the house, talking to Garrus as everyone heads to the lockers.

"I think we all just need some rest, Sidonis," Garrus replies, sounding as tired as everyone else looks. "Not talk. We can have a meeting about this in the morning."

"Right," Sidonis nods awkwardly. "Sorry."

"If anyone picked up any injuries, go and see Monteague," Garrus orders, looking around. "Ian, you might have had some smoke inhalation, so that includes you."

Oh, for fuck's sake. All I want to do is sleep and try and come back at this thing with a clear head. I'm still too much of a mess of emotions to make much headway right now. "I'm fine," I insist.

"It wasn't a suggestion," the turian replies sharply. "Until Monteague gives you the all clear, go and see him." I feel like arguing it further…but then, I'm not the only person who's feeling the effect of Mierin dying. The risk of anyone else being hurt is probably driving him crazy, especially if it's me. May as well try and give him some kind of peace.

"Alright, I'm going," I nod, dumping my weapons into the locker and grabbing my casual clothes. "Let me get dressed first, though." Garrus doesn't even try to deny me that, looking back to the rest of the crew while I ascend the steps up to the beds. A bit of privacy to get changed is always nice.

I loosen the armour's seals, stepping out of it and sliding on my jeans straight away, reaching down for my belt as my bare feet touch the chilly floor. At least I'm functioning, which is more than I can usually say after something like this. I quickly yank on some socks, then pull a three-quarter sleeved t-shirt over my head. Sooner I get dressed and see Monteague, sooner I can just get some sleep and place everything into perspective…

"Feeling good, killer?" a deep voice asks, anger obvious as I look up…and make contact with all four of Grundan Krul's narrowed eyes.

"Not now, Grundan," I say, standing up and walking forward to try and push him out of the way. As if I wasn't feeling guilty enough, he's obviously come up to make me feel even worse. What a fucking pillar of society he is. "This is the last thing I need, alright?"

"I don't give a shit what you need," he hisses, blocking me as I try to get around him, hands landing on my chest and shoving me back. "He's dead. Because of _you._" I don't even respond, fuming to myself as I walk at him again. Once more, his hands shove me back. "He was alive when you got into that safehouse, and he wasn't when you left."

"Yeah? What're you trying to say, mate?" I ask, finally raising my voice as I stand in front of him. The batarian's hands come up again, but I push them to the side. "Don't make snide remarks. If you've got something to say, say it to me."

"You saved your own skin in there," Grundan whispers, all four eyes glaring at me with sheer hatred. "But you had no other choice, right?" The last few words are dripping with cynicism, the edges of his mouth curling up into what looks like a snarl as I feel mine doing the same.

"Grundan," I say, taking a deep breath to try and prevent myself from just flipping at him. I don't know how much more of this I can take today. There's still a small part of that wants to sit in the corner and cry, but the rest of me's just trying to stay functional, and the mixed signals are ripping me up. "You have no idea what happened in that house." My voice turns into a growl. "So, back the fuck off."

"He should still be here," Grundan shoots back, his hands curling onto fists as he suddenly grabs my collar. "If it weren't for you, he would be." His voice is rising into a shout now, breath blasting against my face as I shove him away this time, my own fists forming.

"Don't push me," I warn. "I swear to Christ, Grundan, don't do this. We're all as torn up about Mierin as you are, believe me, and I know you two were close, but I'm not gonna take you blaming me for this. Williams is the one who killed him!"

"You didn't exactly stop him!" Grundan yells. "If you hadn't had your head up your ass about the money and keeping that fat fuck alive until we had it, this wouldn't have happened! This is on you, Shaw!"

Something inside me just snaps at that. Grundan steps towards me again, but I'm ready this time, pushing him hard and following through, just as his arm swings back for an uppercut…until an armoured fist grabs him from behind and tears him away, and I feel someone else grab me, talons wrapping around my shoulders as I'm torn away, still glaring at Grundan as he returns the look.

"Leave him," I hear Erash hiss in my ear. I struggle for a brief second, then suddenly relax, the anger totally evaporating as I raise my hands and Erash lets me go.

"Have you two gone fucking mental?" Butler gasps, releasing Grundan from the lock he had him in as the batarian shoots me a filthy glare. "Christ, we just lost Mierin, we dinnae need you two fighting!"

"Garrus is wondering what is taking you so long," Erash says to me, trying to keep his voice calm even in the face of what just happened. Fuck, Butler's totally right…Mierin's bad enough without fighting inside the group. "I suggest you hurry down to Monteague. Now."

"Right," I nod, trying to clear my head with the movement. "Yeah." I brush past Grundan wordlessly, hearing a faint chuckle from the batarian as I leave.

"I'm watching you, Shaw," I hear him say, causing me to quicken my stride to the stairs and not look back. Just what I need. Grundan watching me. Jesus, it's good Erash and Butler showed up, or…that would've ended badly.

First executing Williams, now I'm getting provoked into fights without even trying to walk away. What the fuck am I doing?

The walk to Monteague's office is short, and I impatiently barge into the room as soon as the door opens, causing the drell doctor to look up at me from his desk as I flop down into a chair. "Ian," he says, nodding a greeting. "Garrus told me to expect you."

"Look, no offence Monteague, let's just make this quick," I mutter. "I want to go to sleep and try and forget this whole day ever happened. I guess you probably do too."

"Actually, I prefer to reflect on issues," he says, voice bizarrely calm given the circumstances. "Mierin's loss will affect us all, but I would prefer not to hide from that." There's a pause as he looks at me. "You are breathing heavily."

"Grundan just had a go at me up by the bunks," I explain, furrowing my brow. "Blaming me for Mierin's death, which is just what I need…"

"People look to blame others for tragedy, rather than accepting that tragedy can often just happen," Monteague says, as I lift my head to look into his huge eyes, black pools against the pale blue of his scales. Somehow, his gaze, along with tone of voice and demeanour just feel…calming. I can feel my breathing and heart rate begin to drop to normal as he looks at me. "It is a natural response. It's easier to blame someone who exists too, rather than someone passed away. Hence why he might be looking to you over Williams."

I smirk. "Great. At least now I know his motives for being a bell-end. I practically hit him for it, Erash and Butler stopped us."

"Then his comments got to you?"

"Yeah," I reply, nodding as I consider what he said. He blamed me…and partly, he has a point. Not about leaving Mierin to die, that didn't happen, but I could have killed Williams… "With hindsight, I guess I could have done things differently."

"With hindsight," Monteague says, smiling. "Indeed. If we had the gift of hindsight, the world would be a very different place." He pauses for a second. "You're probably feeling survivor's guilt. You escaped the house, but Mierin couldn't."

"Something like that," I nod, sighing.

"You should not blame yourself, Ian." His tone is reassuring as he addresses me. "From what I know of you, the idea of you not trying to save Mierin seems…implausible. Grundan will come around, in time. We all cope with grief differently."

I raise an eyebrow. "Thanks, man." It's only a few words…but Monteague has a point. Hindsight would have been great, but I did everything I could for Mierin. That'll have to be enough. Something about this whole thing seems off, though… "I thought Garrus told you to check me for smoke inhalation?"

"You seem fine," Monteague shrugs. "And Garrus did tell me to see you. But not about physical injury."

I frown. "What?"

"He told me about what you did to Williams," Monteague says softly. "He's worried about you, Ian." Oh, brilliant. From guilt about Mierin, to talking about the moral dilemma of killing Williams. No wonder I just want to go to sleep.

"Well, I'll tell him I appreciate the concern," I mutter, placing my hands on the side of the seat to get up. "But I'm fine. I'll think about it with a clear head."

"You are avoiding the issue," the drell points out, voice firm as he reaches and pushes me gently back into the seat. "Often with issues like this, you say you will deal with them tomorrow, yet tomorrow never comes." Damn it…I'm not going to be able to leave here unless we talk about it. Monteague is a calming influence, though, and if he's right about getting things out of the way, I suppose I should listen.

"So I killed Williams," I shrug. "He deserved it."

"Whether he deserved it or not is a moot point," Monteague replies. "He's dead. The question is how you feel for doing it. Garrus told me you've been in this position before."

Garrus told Monteague about Rebecca and Saleon? I don't think I'm too happy about that, actually, but too late to do anything about it now. "I was talked out of it then," I explain, not wanting to linger on it.

"But the man you could have killed there was a true monster," the drell says, pressing the point as he looks at me. "He turned people into hideous creatures, mutated them into things that should never have existed. You spared his life, yet chose to kill a weapons smuggler."

"Smuggler who killed Mierin," I point out. "Look, Monteague, I dunno what this is -"

"Revenge is often used to distract someone from a core problem," Monteague explains, cutting me off with a raised hand. "Perhaps you've simply changed as a person since the incident Garrus told me about." He's got that right…before Omega, I would never have done something like that. "But whatever happened before, something resolved whatever problem you had before you pulled the trigger. Williams, though, he's still left you conflicted. You don't strike me as a man satisfied by your revenge, Ian. How does it feel? Empty?" I nod at his words. "You need a resolution."

"I still don't really know what I'm trying to resolve," I shrug. "Any ideas?"

"I'm afraid not," Monteague replies, shaking his head. "All I can do is try and clear up the issue for you. And make sure you are feeling alright."

"I'm fine," I nod. It feels oddly true, as well. I'm still sad about Mierin, angry at Grundan, confused about Williams…but I'm functioning. Death isn't hitting as hard as it used to. Is that good or bad? "Thanks for the talk, Monteague," I say, rising to my feet. "Food for thought."

"I do my best," he says, smiling sadly as he rises to his feet. "I'm sorry about Mierin, Ian."

"Hey, don't be," I reply. "He was your friend too."

"I wasn't the one who had to watch him die," Monteague mutters. Ugh, that's depressing… "Get some rest. But think about what I've said."

"I'll do that," I nod, genuinely meaning that. Considering how much Rebecca fucked me up after all that stuff, I know ignoring these things just doesn't work. "See you, Monteague." The drell nods a goodbye, settling into the corner and closing his eyes in thought as the door slides shut behind me.

I start climbing the stairs towards the beds, thinking to myself as I go. I suppose it was good of Garrus to set me up with Monteague like that…he does still care, even after everything that happened today. I'll have to thank him later. Even if Monteague's just raised a few more questions than he solved. The whole 'unanswered problem' explains why I'm still feeling confused over this whole Mierin thing.

I hop into my bunk quietly, trying not to attract the attention of the other crew members as I lay my head down on the pillow and close my eyes. Rest. That's what I need, more than anything else. Sorting all my emotions out and grieving for Mierin can happen in the morning. I breathe in deeply, already rolling in the bed as I try and get comfortable.

##########

**Thirty-seven minutes of trying to count sheep later…**

"Fuck," I groan, finally sitting up and rolling out of the bed. "This ain't working."

##########

I sigh, resting my head against the fridge, then open it, reaching for a Tupari. Looks like sleep isn't going to come so easily after all. I cried a little bit about Mierin trying to get to sleep, but it's not really done anything substantial other than making my eyes itch and keeping me awake. Drowning my sorrows in alcohol isn't an option, so sugar might do it instead.

"Not on your life, Ian."

"Should've known you'd be here," I mutter, giving a chuckle that ends up as humourless as I turn around to look at Melanis. "What's keeping you up?"

"Just thought I'd see what you're doing after all that s'kak today," she explains, walking over as I replace the bottle and close the fridge door.

"Oh, great. You know. That's why I'm up at the dead of night looking for an energy drink."

"And that's exactly why I'm up in the dead of night checking on you."

I smirk to myself. It's weird, having her be persistent about wanting to talk. "I said it back at the spaceport, Mel, I didn't realise you cared."

"And I didn't realise you'd be thick enough to turn down someone trying to help you," she replies, sounding exasperated as her mandibles click irritably.

I take a deep breath, then sigh. She has a point. I've had enough experience with shutting people while I'm grieving to know it's a bad idea. "Sorry. I'm just…wound tight. You're not normally someone who helps with that." I smile apologetically. "No offence. I'm assuming you feel the same way about me."

"Yeah, well…just because you can be annoying doesn't mean that I can't try to help," Melanis mutters. I take a seat at the table, causing the turian to slide into one next to me. Funny. This is usually the sort of role Tali would fill or something, but instead the girl who hates my guts on and off is the one trying to help.

"I dunno," I shrug. "I guess I'm still just sad about Mierin. I thought killing Williams would help, but it's done fuck all."

"We're all sad about Mierin, Ian, but we're managing to cope with it." Her voice becomes softer, as she leans in next to me. "Why can't you?"

Oh, I get it. She's talking about it because I'm not mission fit at the moment. "You think I'd be sitting around like this if I fucking knew?" I say, sounding and feeling exasperated. "I don't get what I'm missing. I thought getting him some kind of justice would be enough. Isn't revenge supposed to help with this shit?"

Melanis looks at me, her face almost frighteningly impassive. "It doesn't really help, Ian. But that's something everyone needs to learn on their own. Almost everyone on this squad knows that all too well."

I snort out a sarcastic laugh. "Well, I guess I missed the memo on that." There's a pause, as I frown and think back to the ship. "I've never done that before. Killed a guy for revenge. Garrus said I should be proud after the mission, I just feel crap."

"Sometimes Garrus is...a little overzealous about things like that," Melanis says. "Sometimes he's a little too black and white.

"I've known him for three years," I chuckle. "Trust me, I know how his personality works."

"I'm just saying," she persists. "It's normal to feel like s'kak after something like that."

I look up at her, making eye contact. "Is this personal experience talking? You said something like that back at the spaceport, too, that going off alone was suicide."

Melanis stares back, gaze going right through me as her eyes seem to glaze over. "That's because it is."

"What're you getting at, Mel?" The previous feelings of grief are getting pushed to the side by this, my usual curiosity flaring up at the surprisingly melancholy turian next to me. I suppose Mierin's death is hitting everyone, some are just better at hiding it than others.

"It's just that I've seen this happen too many times here on Omega," she says, as I see her teeth biting lightly against her lower mouth plate. "You let revenge be the only thing keeping you going, and when it finally runs out, nothing. Emptiness."

I pause briefly. "That's hauntingly poignant. And accurate."

"Because it's always the same, Ian," she nods. "You think that the revenge is actually gonna do something, actually make a difference. And when it doesn't, you wonder why."

"Like with Mierin." I glance down at the floor. "You think that's what this is? Because killing Williams didn't really do anything?"

There's a definite sympathy to Melanis' tone as she replies. "Yes. You thought that killing Williams would make things different...but Mierin was still dead afterwards."

"Well...fuck." I sigh. She's right. This is the unsolved problem I felt after shooting him, the link Monteague and I somehow missed in our talk. With Rebecca and Saleon, finding her dead on his ship meant I had my closure before I'd really faced him. No such luck with Mierin. Melanis does seem awfully knowledgeable about this stuff...it would explain how she's been able to pinpoint what even I've not managed to see. There's definitely something more to this. But now isn't the time to pry. "You're right. I think somewhere along the line, I convinced myself revenge would bring him back or something." I chuckle. "God, that's so fucking stupid."

"No, Ian, it's not," Melanis insists. "Trust me when I say that it happens to everyone. What puts others apart is how they deal with it."

"What, am I doing it wrong?" I ask, only half-joking.

"Well, you're not off to the best start," she chuckles.

"I'm just not used to this," I admit. "I've always been crap with dealing with death and stuff. Plus I'm the one telling everyone to turn the other cheek when it comes to revenge. It's just..." I shake my head, thinking about the one thing that's been scaring me ever since I arrived here. Yes, Mierin was different to Rebecca in the sense I'd been able to deal with her death. But even so…I was never the type to execute someone in cold blood before Omega. Even someone like Williams. "Aria warned me about Omega changing people. So did you. I'm not exactly doing a good job of breaking the cliché here, am I?"

"I'm not sure if the cliché _can_ be broken," Melanis shrugs. "About the best you can hope for is letting it change you as little as possible."

"Fuck, that's negative." The whole thing is still a serious worry. I mean, I _feel _like the same person. I don't feel like my sense of humour's really gone anywhere, my optimism is still knocking about somewhere (though only because it's relative to everyone else's pessimism), and I still want to help people. But I'm practically shrugging off someone close to me dying, I basically executed Williams in cold-blood, and remorse isn't really the first emotion on my mind. Maybe it's maturing, I don't know. "I'm trying not to let this get to me. It's like what you said when we were in that factory with all the slaves, you remember? You said you wished you were still like me?"

Her mandibles widen in a sad smile. "I still do. Even after all this, you're still unbelievably sarcastic and relatively positive. Just...hold onto that as long as you can."

I stare at her again. "Change doesn't have to be a bad thing, Mel. It goes both ways. Becoming one thing doesn't mean you can't be another." Just look at Saren. Or at least, I hope Saren's a good example of that. He could still be out there plotting galactic domination, as if I didn't have enough to worry about.

Melanis just stays quiet for a bit, then nods. "I suppose so." The two of us just sit there in idle silence, comfortable with each other for once until I finally break it.

"Well. What happens now? How're you holding up about Mierin?"

"It's something we all knew could happen, but that doesn't lessen the impact," she says. "But I also don't think Mierin would want us to mope about it. He'd want us to keep doing what we do best. So that's what I'm going to do."

"Good attitude," I nod, then suddenly laugh as a memory comes to mind. "You remember him when we were in Mirki'it's factory, and he called?"

"Oh, spirits, yeah," Melanis says, mandibles widening as she smiles too. "I remember that. Poor bastard stuttering on the line, asking for help."

I laugh again, letting the happy memory come back as Melanis joins in. "I'm gonna miss him," I finally say, sighing. "A lot."

"Just as long as you're not wallowing in grief," Melanis says. "When you don't let these things go, that's when they hurt you."

"I know about that," I nod, thinking about the whole post-Rebecca affair. That all seems so…irrational, now. Completely closing up. "I still don't know where I stand on killing Williams."

"He was a monster," she says simply. "He would've killed anyone to let himself escape. We had to kill him."

"I dunno if I did," I shrug. "Not like that. It wasn't really about justice, I just executed him for revenge."

"Then it's up to you," Melanis shrugs, causing me to raise an eyebrow at her. "If you want to let that change you, make you colder, then do it. Or accept it as a lapse of judgement, and move on. No point being conflicted about it. Sitting on the fence just gets you a sore ass."

"Nice turn of phrase," I chuckle. "I'll think on it. Thanks for talking to me about this, Mel. Really."

"It's no problem," she says. "You're annoying, but we're on the same team. Plus you never really struck me as the kind of person made for this kind of operation. I thought everyone else would have to be like me."

"Come on," I reply, smiling. "Whatever that's supposed to mean, it's not true. You're a good person."

"Thanks," she says, smiling back as I feel her talon on the table next to me graze down the side of my hand. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're proving me wrong about the kind of person we need around here." The two of us sit there, suddenly frozen as her talon scratches up and down gently. She might not even realise she's doing it, but…it's nice.

With a sudden trill, my omni-tool message alert flashes up, causing both our hands to shoot apart in shock as I read the message sender's name. _Tali._"I should probably read this," I say quickly.

"Right, right," she nods. "I need to go check my weapons before I got to sleep. So, erm…"

"It was nice talking to you," I offer.

"Same here," Melanis replies. "We have training in the morning, remember. Don't make me get you, because I _will_drag you down to the range."

"I don't doubt it," I chuckle. "See you around, Mel." The female turian strides off quickly as I look down at the omni-tool, smiling to myself a bit. It's weird, seeing her as the caring one for once. Oh well. It's helped me out, that's for sure…and I'm sure she'll be back to her usual abrasive self by the time tomorrow rolls around, so it's all good. At least I know what's up with me now, anyway. Coming to terms with Mierin being gone might take a little while, but I'm fine with that. Better than not coming to terms at all.

_I __finally __set __up __the __vid__ chat_, the message from Tali reads. _Sorry __it __took __so __long. __Hopefully __you__'__re __still __awake __to __get __this._

Ah, I suppose I should give her a ring, see how she's doing. Especially with our message content drying up as of late, along with all the other s'kak that's been happening.

S'kak? Heh, Melanis must be rubbing off on me…

_Give __me __a__ minute __to __set __things __up __on __my __end,_I text back, heading to the communications room boxed away under the stairs. We've got pretty basic vid-call equipment, but it's obviously better than anything the Flotilla has, given how long Tali's taken to actually set this up to call me. So much for master engineer, heh…

I press a few keys on the machine's control panel, pulling up Tali's contact details and checking the connection is secure before I place the call. It's been over half a year since I actually saw her in person last…so, this ought to be interesting.

The call takes a few minutes to connect, leaving me pacing up and down the length of the small room until I finally hear a crackling noise from the mic, and a holographic figure flickers in front of me…until finally materialising into quarian form, the figure poking at something off screen, presumably the camera.

"Hello?" Tali asks. "Ian? Can you see me?"

"You're all clear on my end," I grin, looking at her. Her old gear's been replaced with a familiar looking black exo-suit with gold plating around the neck and chest, purple visor, and purple hood over the top of her head, quarian patterns flowing down it in white as she stands in front of me nervously, three fingered hands locked together. "How're you doing?"

"I'm doing well," she nods. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd still be awake. Isn't it really late on Omega?"

"I've…" I'm tempted to start launching into a massive rant about Mierin, Williams, everything…but it's going to take ages, it's late, and I don't want to talk about it now I feel like things are beginning to get cleared up. "It's been a busy day. Really busy. Lot of stuff going on. Sleep isn't really happening for me."

"What's wrong?" Tali asks immediately, concern obvious as the hologram looks at me. "Did something happen?"

"We…I lost someone close," I say. I have to tell her something. "Someone else on the infiltration team. We were on an operation, there was a house fire, and…he's gone." Saying that genuinely hits me hard for the first time since it happened. All the previous irrational hopes of him somehow coming back dashed in two words. Acceptance beats denial, I suppose.

"Keelah…" Tali steps back, a hand coming up to the mouth area of her mask. "That's awful. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Please, I've been doing that all damn day," I reply, chuckling a tad humourlessly. "I've worked through things with the squad. Want to at least try putting it behind me."

"If you're sure," Tali says, not sound convinced, but obviously not wanting to push it. "I was going to ask how Omega is, but…I suppose that's not the best question now. How's Garrus?"

"Good," I nod. "Well, as good as you can expect. You know Garrus, he takes things like this hard. He always feels so responsible for everything. But at least we got the guy who did it, that ought to make him feel better."

"As long as he's okay," Tali replies, wringing her hands again. "Sorry, I didn't realise so much had happened. I should just go and talk to you later -"

"No, no," I say, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose to try and liven myself up. "Don't go. We don't get to talk enough as it is. And I didn't get to compliment your outfit."

"I've been wearing it for a few months," she says shyly. "I thought you'd want to see it for yourself, rather than hear about it in a message. Do you like it?"

"Love it," I nod. Genuinely do, too. The whole design just looks…well, better than what she had back on the SR-1. Seems to fit her a lot more naturally. "You really suit that whole colour. Especially the hood."

"Thanks," she says, tone of voice suggesting she's smiling under the visor. "I thought it would be good to change after the Pilgrimage. Celebrating the new me, right?"

"Right," I say, laughing despite the connotations I can't help noticing in that sentence. "So, uh…what's happening on the Flotilla? Or just the Neema. I know it's a big place and all."

"We just passed through some salarian colonies fringing the Terminus," she replies, seeming a lot more natural running through Flotilla business. "They gave us some 'gifts', so we didn't stay too long."

"That was probably the idea," I chuckle. Generally, races or corporations with an interest in a system the quarians visit will give them stuff to encourage them to leave, and the Admiralty Board isn't in much of a position to turn them down.

Ah, crap, the Admiralty Board. With her dad on. I want to tell her about it in a vid call…but not tonight. This isn't the right time or way to break the news about what's going to happen. Part of me just wants to never mention it, but she'll kill me if the trial suddenly springs and she knows I didn't tell her. "How're you doing?" I ask. "On a personal level, not just the Flotilla."

"I'm great, actually," she says, nodding enthusiastically. "All the experience I had with Shepard has made the Neema put me in charge of a security team."

"That's great news!" I exclaim, quietly ignoring the voice in the back of my head quietly whispering 'Haestrom' over and over again.

"I know," Tali replies happily. "The Admiralty put together a squad of us for important operations, research, everything."

"Nice squad?" I ask.

"Oh, they're great," Tali says, whole body language slipping into a totally relaxed mood. "Xari, Dara'Cal, Kal…"

"Kal?" The name suddenly makes me ask the question.

"Kal'Reegar," she nods, body language seeming to tighten a little bit again. "He's assigned from the Migrant Fleet Marines to protect me."

"He's wasting his time," I shrug. "You don't need protecting."

"Having someone else watching my back doesn't hurt," Tali replies. "He's really nice, Ian. I'll introduce you two some time."

I chuckle to myself, thinking about Kal'Reegar…and the fact he has Adam Baldwin's voice. Which means I'll be calling him Casey in my head the entire time. Or Jayne. "That'd be nice. Maybe some of the other squad members too."

"Yeah, of course," she nods. "I -"

"_Tali!__" _a voice shouts from off the hologram. Familiar sounding voice. Well, speak of the devil, Kal'Reegar! _"__Marine __command __wants __me __to __go __through __the __security __arrangements __for __you __again!__"_

"Bosh'tets…" Tali hisses, then looks back at me.

"You going on a mission?"

"Yes," she nods. "We're heading out to look for a missing quarian on her pilgrimage. She's in batarian space, then suddenly went off the radar."

Oh, that sounds like it'll end well…I don't say that though, just nodding. "Well, good luck. And if you're heading to batarian space, definitely listen to the security arrangements."

"I have," Tali replies sardonically. "Five times."

"Ah."

"I'll talk to you later," she says, stepping towards the camera again to deactivate it. "Oh, and Ian?"

"Yeah?" I ask, staring at her as her eyes, glowing from behind the visor, make contact with mine.

"Don't let Omega get to you." With that, the hologram flickers…then dies as the console shows the connection's been lost. Well, at least everything seems to be working out for her on the Flotilla. The fact she's on what sounds like a special forces squad is a bit concerning, but given that she's got Kal with her, and she's such a pro anyway, I'm sure Tali's gonna be fine. Even if she only ever seems excited to talk when it's about the Flotilla…or I'm just imagining that because I'm tired.

I head out of the comm. room, strolling back up the steps to the beds, my head feeling a lot clearer from the chat with Melanis. Having someone to tell your problems to is nice, but having someone who understands them is even better. I don't know where she got her experience from, but at least she's sharing it. Though that's probably because it's not fun taking the piss out of me when I'm miserable.

I'm about to turn to the bunks, when a glance at the door to Garrus' own, much bigger, room shows light creeping out from under it. Shit, is he still up? The door panel is red, but I knock on it anyway. "Garrus?" He showed concern for me by sending me to Monteague, so the least I can do is return the favour. Talking to Tali's made me feel genuinely concerned about him too.

It takes about thirty seconds of waiting until the lock finally turns green, and it slides open to reveal an extremely tired looking Garrus in casual wear. His mandibles seem to be drooping, the effort of keeping them up obviously too much, and his beady eyes seem to have lost some of their usual sharp aspects. Both of them. His visor's nowhere to be seen. "Ian," he mutters, standing to the side to let me in. "Look, I'm sorry about snapping at you earlier about Monteague…"

"It's fine," I say quickly. "He helped me out a lot, so I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything," Garrus chuckles, sitting down at the desk in his room and resting his head in a talon as he looks at the files spread across it. I walk up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder as I look over at what he's reading. Still images, and swathes of text. "You just didn't seem to be yourself about Williams. I was worried."

"Well, I've found my old self again, so no worries," I reply, giving his plated shoulder a little squeeze. "Can't say the same about you, though. Staying up this late. Where's the visor?"

"I put it down in Laet's workshop for the morning," he says, tilting his head to look at me and causing his fringe to quickly brush along my arm. "I'm getting an inscription on it. To remind me of the responsibilities I have."

"Hey, if this is about Mierin, it's not your fault," I say quickly. "You couldn't have done anything, you weren't there." I'm no longer feeling angry about Mierin's death, instead getting hit by a natural sadness at the thought of him. He's stuttering at angels now…man, he never deserved to die. Bad shit happens to good people.

"I ordered him off in the first place," Garrus shrugs. "I should have known he would've been in danger. Mierin obviously wanted to prove himself to me, and I just let him go off and do it."

"And you know he would've completed that mission," I interrupt. "It didn't matter who was in that house, a bomb went off. It could've been anyone one of us, Garrus. Being there wouldn't have made a difference."

"Well, I hope you're right," he says, but a sad smile creeps onto his face as he says that. "I'm not letting it happen again. For sure."

"I know," I smile back. "What's the inscription?"

"Names," he says. "Of everyone on the squad. It might sound stupid to you, but having that…it lets me know what I'm supposed to be responsible for. Having your names with me." Garrus shrugs apologetically. "Maybe it's just a turian thing."

I give flash him a quick grin. "It's sweet. And if it makes you feel better, you should do it." There's a pause, but a comfortable one as I stand and he sits with my hand on his shoulder. "So," I finally ask, "what's with the files?"

"I told Monteague to send them up," he explains, looking down at them again. "This is everything he could find from that OSD we recovered about Sensat."

"Anything I should know about?" I ask.

"Too much," he replies, shaking his head. "The list is huge. They exposed her to element zero for biotics, conditioned her to become…I don't know. A killer. Locked her in that chair for days on end, cycling these horrible images until she just completely shut it out. Weapons training, psychoanalysis, it's all in here." Garrus shakes his head again. "The worst part? She was right about other people being taken in. She was the fifth subject, the other four died in testing until they could get things absolutely right."

"Damn…" I mutter, looking down at the pictures of the chair for myself. Trapped in that for days on end…no wonder she was so scared with Monteague. I would've been. "What does the psychoanalysis say?"

"That she's the only subject they had that didn't go insane from imaging," he replies. "Sensat…she eventually just accepted it. File talks about some 'haunting calm' about her. She's seen too much for anything new to have an effect. What we'd call barbaric, she'd see as…mundane."

"I hope Vortash knows what he's doing," I say quietly. Sensat is going to be interesting to see over time, that's for sure. "We're not using her in field operations, are we?"

"I don't know yet," Garrus shrugs, pushing the files to one side and leaning back. "I need to think about it. And don't give me your opinion, I can already guess what it is, and I'm too tired for that argument right now."

"Good," I nod, chuckling. "I am too." Garrus laughs at that, the fact he can predict what we're going to clash over somehow tickling both of us. My morality stuff, like about the money…

The money. "Have we thought about giving Mierin…I don't know, a funeral?" I ask suddenly, once we've both stopped laughing.

"We can't give him a proper ceremony on Omega," Garrus replies sadly, shaking his head. "We can have a remembrance for him here, but no casket, no grave. Not with the mercs looking for us."

"I know that," I say, cutting him off. "But he's ex C-Sec. At the very least, we should organise something for him back on the Citadel. And it's not like we can't afford to give him a good service."

Garrus pauses for a seconds, mandibles widening at the thought. "Who'd organise it?" he finally asks.

"Pallin," I reply immediately. "You know how loyal he is to C-Sec. If we gave him the resources, he'll go to just about any length to honour an officer. And it's a better use for some of the money than just squandering it."

"It's what Mierin deserves," Garrus nods. "Alright. I'll sort out the arrangement with the Citadel in the morning. After we both get some rest."

"Rights," I chuckle, fatigue suddenly washing over me as Garrus says that. After today's emotional rollercoaster, I think I'm finally ready to sleep. "You want to talk about anything before I go? I don't want you staying up all night."

"Talking to you helped enough, I think," the turian replies as I finally take my hand off his shoulder and back up towards the door. "Thanks, Ian. Whatever happens with Omega, and what comes next…it's just good having someone at my back."

"Same here," I smile, the two of us looking at each for a few seconds before we finally break eye contact. "Don't go getting all sensitive on me, Vakarian," I laugh. "It's not like you."

"I'll see you at the briefing in the morning, Ian," he chuckles, as I step out the door and let it close behind me.

It's only a short walk to the bed, and I hop into the bunk again, closing my eyes and feeling comfortable properly this time as I feel myself drifting off instantly. Even after everything that's happened, Mierin's death, revenge on Williams, the effect on me…I somehow feel at peace from the talks I've had.

Aria and Melanis were right. Change is inevitable, and I know it's happening to me. No point trying to fight that. What I _can_do is shape the effect it has. So, I deal with death better. I control myself, move on. Maybe I've become more vengeful. But if the vengeance gets directed at the right people, the change doesn't have to be bad.

I sigh. Philosophers have probably mulled over that kind of question for years, and I'm happy to leave them to it. If change is happening…then I'm going to control it. Not the other way around.

As my eyes close fully, and sleep encroaches upon me overwhelmingly, my mind clumsily jumps to Mierin. I might not be inconsolable…but I'm still torn up about it, and fatigue is just about the only thing stopping me from tearing up as I slip into unconsciousness with one final thought.

I'm gonna miss you, man.

**A/N: Well, hopefully that helped resolve the issues Ian was feeling, and gets a bit of character development in. That's the plan anyway, heh. He's not a different person, per say…his outlook is just changing. For now.**

**Thanks to TheRev28 for helping out again, along with Abstract Indigo.**

**And that's the Williams' case over! Hope you all enjoyed this one, despite character death and all that. Feedback on how you felt about the case on the whole is, as ever, much appreciated. **

**Anyway, end of the case means an update for Case Zero in the near future (for the few of you who read it, ha), and a flashforward chapter. But not before the Christmas special! I'm going on a brief break this weekend with family, which means the next update may likely be the Christmas special. I know I'm looking forward to writing it, so I hope you're looking forward to reading it too!**

**That's it for this chapter, anyway. Thank you all for reading, reviewing (past the 900 mark, huge props for that) and supporting the story. Cheers, guys.**

**See you next time!**


	31. Ian vs The Christmas Special

Chapter 31  
Or just 'The Christmas Special'  
Whatever you prefer, really.  
I mean, there's valid reason for both, since this is still part of the story, but then again it's not exactly fitting the timeline.  
So yeah, your call.  
Wait, what the fuck am I doing?  
Lou Monte: Dominick the Donkey (The Italian Christmas Donkey)

**A/N: The following events aren't technically MtM canon, since the dates don't really match up particularly well, or the characters that are around when they really shouldn't be (Mierin). Just so I can pre-empt people saying 'grr that's not possible'. Even so, some of the stuff that is said/happens might carry over to other chapters later.**

**Except the bit set in MtM1. That actually happened.**

**Enjoy!**

###########

**December 25th 2184  
****7:04am, Omega time  
****Archangel's base**

"Oh, damn it," Garrus mutters, eyes rising to meet mine as I walk into the living area with a huge grin on my face. "Already? Shouldn't you still be sleeping?"

"What time of year is it, Garrus?"

"Go back to bed, Ian."

"Say it."

"No."

"If you don't say it, I will."

"I'm not saying it!"

"God, you are such a killjoy," I say, walking up to the turian and putting an arm around his neck. Everyone else seems to be in bed at the moment…meaning I can give everyone the alarm call this morning. "IT'S CHRISTMAS!" I yell.

"Not this shit again," Garrus groans. "The decorations are enough without you screaming it at the top of your voice." I take a look around the base interior…and he does have a point. We've got a (fake) Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room closest to the door, tinsel and holographic lights lining the banister of the stairs, and I managed to hack the front door to play a charmingly tinny rendition of 'Jingle Bells' whenever anyone comes through it. Considering this was just me and Butler putting this together, I'm impressed.

"Garrus, it's Christmas," I repeat, looking back at the turian and hugging him closer with my arm, making his plates bristle. "Turn that frown upside down and enjoy yourself. I got you a present and everything."

"Oh, I see," Garrus replies sarcastically, as I begin to hear the sound of people stirring from upstairs. "Now you're resorting to bribery to get me to go along with this."

I laugh, adjusting the Santa hat I put on when I got out of bed so it doesn't fall off. "It's not like this is your first Christmas, mate. I thought you'd be used to it by now. I mean, you got me a present too, right?"

"Of course," he says, and a small smile does settle onto his face as his mandibles flex. Ah, I know he loves it, underneath the surly attitude… "I can't forget tradition."

"Well, there's something to look forward to," I smile, then catch sight of Sidonis' head poking around the door to the bunks. "Merry Christmas, Sidonis!"

"What the _fuck_," the turian growls, "are you doing shouting everyone awake at this hour."

"It's Christmas," I say simply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Turians don't usually celebrate Christmas," he replies irritably.

"Why not start now, then?" I ask. Sidonis just shakes his head, but moves down the stairs towards us, as I see the rest of the crew filing out from their respective rooms.

"May as well, since you woke me up," he mutters, as I notice Butler also wearing his Santa hat, bundle of presents tucked under his arm. Mierin blinks a couple of times as he walks down the stair and into the living room, actually looking quite excited at everyone gathering around. Probably my fault. Butler and I may have _slightly _exaggerated Christmas to him as a miraculous festival of feasting, drinking, sharing and gift-giving, when in reality it's fourteen grown adults gathering around a tree for something at least half don't really want to be at. But that's beside the point.

I hear a chuckle from behind me, and I swivel my head to see Melanis staring at the whole squad beginning to gather, as Butler puts the presents down in the middle of the room and immediately makes a beeline for the fridge. "Ah, this brings me back," she says, walking up next to Garrus and I as the last stragglers emerge. "You humans always get so excited for this."

"Tell me about it," Garrus mutters.

"Hey, it's not my fault this is the best time of the year," I shrug. "You must've got dragged into a few Christmas celebrations while you were on Earth, right?"

"Some human friends had my family over sometimes," she nods. "I'll admit, it was good fun. When we were kids."

"You can still enjoy it when you're older," I say indignantly.

"You know, I could make a really obvious joke about mental age there, but it's too early," Melanis sighs.

"Why are we all here?" Weaver suddenly asks, glaring at the pile of presents as if they're explosives. Then again, given his line of work, that's fair enough… "Is this some kind of team meeting? Or is it that Christmas thing he's been talking about?" The glare shifts from the presents onto me.

"That 'Christmas thing' is actually an important religious festival for my species," I reply. "So show a bit of respect."

"You're an atheist," Monteague points out.

I stand for a few seconds trying to think of a comeback, then just mumble to myself and look down at the floor.

"Dinnae tell me none of you have heard of Christmas," Butler says, coming to my rescue with a bottle of beer in hand. "That's no' possible unless you've been on your homeworlds all your life."

A quick glance around the room shows no-one moving to deny Butler's claim. "I've heard of it," Laet finally says. "All the humans on the Citadel went crazy over December, business practically trebled. I put up all the decorations to attract customers. Had no idea why it worked, but it did."

"It came up in my studies," Monteague adds. "According to research, alcohol poisoning also increases at an incredible rate over the apparent 'Christmas period'." That's probably fair comment…

"I'll give you the quick run-down," I interject. "Basically, Christmas is a time where people exchange presents, have a good time and eat lots."

"You did just say it was a religious festival," Erash cuts in.

"Anyone here Christian?" I ask. Silence. "Then yeah, I got the explanation right. It's roughly the same even if you are religious, just with a bit more church involved."

"But…" Mierin says slowly. "I didn't get you any presents." He sounds genuinely distraught about that, the poor guy…

"Don't worry about it," I say quickly. "Half the fun is giving rather than receiving." I hear Monteague and Laet both snicker at that. "Oh, really mature, guys."

"Ian and I already got presents for everyone," Butler explains, pointing to the pile of boxes in the middle of the room. "Cannae have a good Christmas without the gifts, right?"

"Rights," I nod. "So, uh…yeah." I clap my hands together. "Merry Christmas, everyone." Most of the crew continue to stare at me, while I hear Melanis laughing quietly behind me. "You know," I say, turning to look at Butler, "I think leaving it as a surprise wasn't such a good idea."

"We needed a snow machine," the Scot quietly muses, scratching at his short beard as he stares at the roof. "It's not quite…Christmasy enough. Next year, Garrus?"

"No," the turian snaps. "NO."

"Can we open them?" Mierin asks, picking up the box with his name on and shaking it curiously.

"That's the idea," I chuckle. For a lot of these guys, it's genuinely their first Christmas…that's actually kind of adorable. "Go on."

Mierin quickly tears off the wrapping paper…and out falls a Christmas jumper, with a salarian Santa Claus knitted onto the front of it. Knitted stuff is so ridiculously expensive these days, I swear to Christ…but I figured he'd like it. Without a word, the salarian pulls it on immediately, beaming happily at me before looking over at everyone else opening their presents. They do say giving presents is better than receiving, and I think I can see why from that reaction.

Everyone else is already tearing into their presents, previous uncertainty replaced with smiles and laughter from just about everyone as they see what they've got. For Monteague; an assortment of candy shaped like organs, given the whole medic thing he's got going on. Something about him makes me figure he has a sweet tooth…and from the happy look on his face, I'm guessing I called it right.

"Shaw, you beauty," Butler crows, pulling out a bottle of whisky from the fairly obvious gift I labelled for him. "Who wants shots?"

"It is only seven am, Butler," Erash chuckles. "Getting inebriated at this hour seems…a little odd."

"It's Christmas," Butler shrugs. "Only time of the year where drinking in the morning is acceptable."

"Since when has that stopped you?" I ask rhetorically, seeing Sidonis smile to himself as he sees the copy of Fleet and Flotilla I bought him. Everyone's raving about it, and I figured a nice romantic film would be good for the guy. Kinda reminds me too…Tali's out on a mission, meaning actual communication's impossible until she gets back. Hopefully she'll reply to the little message I sent before getting up…just a simple _'Merry Christmas x'_. Wasn't sure what else to say.

Erash turns away from Butler, looking around for his present. Ah, better put him out of his misery. "You don't have anything packaged," I say. "I downloaded some stuff for your eReader last night. You like Terry Pratchett?"

"I have heard the name," Erash nods, widening his mandibles thoughtfully. "Thank you. It's unfortunate I have nothing to give you in return."

"Eh, a hug and saying 'merry christmas' will do," I smile. Erash smiles too, wrapping his arms around my back and giving me a proper hug before I can tell him I wasn't being serious. Oh well. He's all warm and stuff, so it's still nice.

"Merry Christmas, Ian," the turian says, forehead pressing against mine briefly before he lets go. Erash always seems a bit lonely, given the amount he just sits and reads, so it feels good actually giving him some companionship. Plus we just forehead touched. He's actually looking shy after that, making eye contact then quickly breaking it off as I look at him, and I'm actually feeling a small chill from it. That was…oddly nice. Sweet of him, anyway.

A sudden groan from Garrus next to me throws me off my thoughts as he pulls out a sniper rifle scope from the box from me. "Is this going to blow up in my face, or something?" he asks. The suspicion's fair enough. Ever since our first Christmas together, we've been buying each other joke presents. This year being no exception.

"I swear, it's nothing of the sort," I reply honestly. "Look through it." Cautiously, Garrus lifts the scope to his eye, staring through…and frowning.

"What's on the reticule?"

"It's a Christmas tree," I say happily, as the turian pulls the scope away and looks at me with narrowed eyes.

"Brilliant," he says sarcastically. "I'll be sure to use that on the next mission. Have you seen your present?"

"Is it in the pile?" I ask, looking over at the practically bare stack of presents. Only Grundan's, Vortash's and Sensat's are left, but I doubt we'll be hearing from them any time soon. Especially since Grundan isn't talking to me…but I'll go and see Vortash and Sensat in private later.

"No," Garrus replies. "Have you checked your omni-tool today?"

"Can't say I have." I open up the interface on my wrist, noticing some mail from…an unknown sender. . Can't say I've ever heard of that address before, even if the whole 'frnxbot' seems familiar for some odd reason.

I open the mail, then recoil in horror at the images in front of me, frantically exiting the email and looking at Garrus with fury, who's practically pissing himself laughing. "You subscribed me to _Fornax?_"

"Merry Christmas," he manages to say, before he bursts out laughing again. I open the email again, trying not to look too hard at the images of a hanar doing…something I don't even want to think about to an asari, as I look for some way to get myself off the mailing list.

"How do I unsub from this stuff?" I ask.

"Well, it's being paid for from my account, in my name, but sent to your address," Garrus replies. "So…you can't."

"But…there's so much of this," I say in disbelief, finally managing to find a button that takes me off the images and onto a list of categories. "I mean, what the fuck? I can handle humans, quarians, maybe a bit of turian…but some of this stuff is just…"

"They cater for every taste," the turian shrugs. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I got the whole package."

"I appreciate you being considerate, but did you think I'd go for vorcha and krogan? At the same time?"

Garrus shrugs again, still laughing as I shake my head and close the email. Weaver's curiously checking out the chocolate I got him which is shaped and wrapped to look like plastic explosive, while Laet's mandibles widen into a toothy grin at the expensive turian cologne I got him. He's pretty well-groomed for a turian (I swear he shines his fringe) so I figured it would suit him.

Oh, there's Grundan! I see the batarian walking in, expression of disbelief on his face at what's going on. "Merry Christmas, Grundan!" I shout over.

"Fuck off," he growls, turning around and walking back out the room.

Melanis finally steps forward to pick up the box I wrapped for her, casually tearing the paper off with a talon…and miraculously giving a genuine smile at the present within. "This is the dress I wore to that party, isn't it?" she asks.

"Well, yeah," I nod shyly. "Same dress. But I got it cleaned, pressed, adjusted to fit your figure better, all that stuff. You know, just in case we ever go undercover together again."

"Spirits preserve me if that happens," she says, chuckling good-naturedly. "But thank you. I should get your present, actually."

"You got me a present?" I ask stupidly, as Melanis jogs over to the fridge. Oh no, she's not. Is she? Melanis quickly reaches in, grabbing a Tupari with a decorative bow tied around the neck of it, then comes back over and hands the chilled bottle to me. I eagerly unscrew the cap, lifting it up and tilting the bottle…

For a whole load of confetti to fall out and cover my head, without a single drop of Tupari. Melanis and Garrus are both clearly holding back laughing as I stare down the bottle, then up at them. "Confetti," I say. "Thank you. Thank you for making my disappointment more festive."

"You're welcome," Melanis grins, and I sigh as everyone gathers around again, clutching their presents. The reluctance of earlier is gone, instead replaced by an air of happiness around the place as people compare gifts. Monteague's already sharing his sweets with Laet, as Mierin pipes up, obviously loving his Christmas jumper from the look on his face.

"I can't believe I've never been able to do this before," he says. "Always thought it was weird when I saw humans getting ready for it on the Citadel, but…this is great!"

"I think the best part for me these days is introducing it to other people," I reply. "I mean, on Earth, it's just the norm. But ever since I've joined C-Sec, it's constantly been getting people's heads around the concept. It's fun garnering reactions."

"So…was it similar to this when you and Garrus were on the Normandy?" Laet asks. "That's not classified information, is it?"

I glance over at Garrus, both of us smiling, before looking back to Laet. "Funnily enough, no, the Normandy Christmas party isn't top secret. And if it is, who cares? You want to hear about it?"

"I'm just struggling to get my head around the idea of Commander Shepard doing a Christmas party," Mierin admits. "She always seemed so strong when I saw her on the news. Always the steadfast leader." I'm expecting Garrus' face to fall thinking about Shepard…but he actually looks quite proud at Mierin's description of her. Good.

"That was just Shepard's gameface," I explain. "Don't get me wrong, she was the best leader I've ever met and ever will meet." I give Garrus a sideways glance. "No offence." He just waves it off with a talon, chuckling. "But when it came to Christmas? Trust me, Lara Shepard was as bad as I am for this stuff…"

###########

**December 25th 2183  
****8:14am, ship time  
****Normandy SR-1**

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" Shepard and I both yell in unison, stepping out of the elevator and into the garage to whoops and cheers from the assembled crew members, all of whom seem to be wearing Santa hats. The CIC and kitchen area were both too small for any kind of Christmas party, so we figured the garage would be the best place to fit all the crew members who celebrate Christmas. And, given that Wrex, Tali and Liara are here too, some of the crew members who don't celebrate Christmas as well. At least, they don't for the moment. We'll fix that.

By 'we', I mean Shepard, Kaidan, Ash and myself. Initially the plan was renting out Flux for the day and taking some shore leave to celebrate Christmas, but a geth problem just sprung up in the Armstrong Nebula, meaning we'll be doing festivities whilst hurtling through Mass Relays and the like. No-one seems too bothered, though. Someone managed to set up a _huge _Christmas tree by Ash's weapon station, complete with multi-coloured lights and a moving hologram of Santa on top, the Mako's been adorned in tinsel, much to Garrus' chagrin, and lights have been put up all around the perimeter of the room, changing the usually dark garage into somewhere surprisingly festive.

"Commander! Shaw!" I hear Kaidan shout, as he reaches into a sack and tosses us both a Santa hat. Well, that explains were everyone got them from… "Merry Christmas!"

"Same to you, Kaidan," I grin, grabbing the Lieutenant by the end and slapping him on the back as he reciprocates the gesture. "Shit, I didn't think the party would be _this _popular!" I have to raise my voice to be heard, since one of the crew members started playing 'White Christmas' over the speakers in here.

"Neither did I!" he shouts back. "Ash and Shepard must have spread the word!" He suddenly looks over at Shepard, looking embarrassed. "I mean, Commander. Ma'am."

"Relax, Kaidan," Shepard laughs, slapping Kaidan on the shoulder, shoulder length brunette hair bouncing loose as she pulls on the Santa hat, and I do the same. "You know I don't like all the formalities around the squad."

"It's for the rest of the crew, ma'am," Kaidan insists. "I don't want to set a precedent for everyone -"

"Hey!" Shepard yells over the music, getting everyone to look at her. "If I hear a single 'Commander' or 'ma'am' from anyone in here, Urdnot Wrex _will _throw you out the party! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Shepard!" everyone shouts back, making Lara grin wide as she turns back to Kaidan.

"That's how you set a precedent, Alenko," she says, leaving Kaidan gawping at her as she heads off towards Ash waving her over.

"Unlucky, mate," I say sympathetically, before jogging after Shepard, craning my head around to try and catch a glimpse of Tali. She said she'd meet me down here this morning, since I had to go and make last minute checks for the party…but I can't get much of a glimpse of anyone above the crowd. Damn it, I hate being short! There's a small flash of purple…which is just a particularly garish shirt one of the crew members is wearing. Shit, come on…

Suddenly, I feel a three fingered hand and arm curling around my waist from behind, and the familiar feel of the side of a visor pressing against my cheek. "Merry Christmas," Tali says quietly, as I turn around and pull her into a hug. "Is that it? Did I say it right?"

"Perfect," I smile, pulling away to see her eyes faintly glowing behind the visor. God, it sucks how she has to wear that practically all the time. "I'm thinking about saying 'like you' now I've said perfect, but is that a bit too corny?"

"I don't mind," Tali replies, slipping her hand into mine. "I can't believe how many people are down here…Christmas is a big deal for your people, then?"

"I'm just gonna pretend you didn't ask that," I laugh. "Big deal is putting it lightly. For one day a year on Earth, at least in my country, the whole place practically stops. Shops close, schools are shut, people take holidays from work, entire families get together. Plus all the vids make Christmas specials, which are usually good fun. Quarians must have festivals like this, right?"

"Yes," she admits. "I just didn't think humans had anything similar. And I don't understand the tree. Or the fat man in red. Is he a human deity?" I burst out laughing at the 'deity' line, making Tali give me a good natured punch on the arm. "What?"

I quickly contain the laughter, rubbing Tali's shoulder reassuringly. "Sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. And no, Santa Claus isn't a deity as such. Well, he probably is up until you're eight years old, but technically he originates from Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of…something. Hold on." I quickly open my omni-tool, keying the search into the extranet search and selecting the Omnipedia result. "The patron saint of children, sailors, fishermen, merchants, broadcasters, the falsely accused, pharmacists, archers, pawnbrokers and repentant thieves. Oh, and prostitutes."

"You celebrate a festival presided over by the patron saint of prostitutes?" Tali asks unbelievingly.

"Hey, he did other stuff too," I protest. "You're hanging onto the one issue here."

"Right…" she says, hint of sarcasm to her tone. That's probably me rubbing off on her. "It's fun, anyway. I like it. Why are there all those boxes under the tree?"

"Presents," I reply. "Which reminds me…I got you something. Remember how you fixed up my omni-tool?"

"You didn't have to -" Tali starts saying, before I shush her with a smile.

"Well, I'm not the engineer you are, so I figured it'd just be best to buy you a better omni-tool altogether." I reach into my pocket, pulling out the piece of equipment and handing it to her, with a bow tied around. "Merry Christmas, Tali'Zorah. A _very _merry Christmas."

"Is this…a Savant X omni-tool?" Tali asks. "Where did you get this? Serrice Council goods need customers to go through a screening process, not to mention the price -"

"I've still got a few contacts on the Citadel," I chuckle. "Legal contacts, obviously," I quickly add, as Tali puts her hands on her hips. "So, enjoy."

"I will," Tali says, grabbing me in a hug again. "I should have got you something as well."

"Just having you is fine," I reply, squeezing on her shoulders gently. "Besides, I'm sure you'll think of something to give me."

Tali laughs at that, pulling away from the hug and tilting her head coyly. "Was that…innuendo?"

"Would I ever?"

"I'm not going to answer that," she says, and I can practically see the smile behind the visor as she does. "Maybe you should spread some of the Christmas happiness to Wrex while I'm thinking, then." I look over to Wrex's usual spot against the crates, which he's still leaning on whilst glaring at all the intruders into his personal space.

"I think he could do with that," I nod. "There's normally supposed to be mistletoe for this, but oh well." I quickly lean in, kissing Tali's visor, then grin at her surprised body language.

"What's mistletoe?" she finally asks.

"That's why I didn't bother with it," I chuckle. "See you in a bit, Tali." I feel a little pang of longing as her hand slips out of mine as she heads back into the party, but bury it as I walk over to Wrex, scooping a loose Santa hat off the floor as I lean on the crates next to him. "Merry Christmas, Wrex."

"I'm going to strangle the next person who says that to me," Wrex grunts. "And you people call this a party?"

"What are we missing?"

"Not enough ryncol, women, or fighting," he replies, in the typically deep monotone. "If someone doesn't at least get injured, it's not a good party."

"You just need to get into the spirit of it," I shrug, lifting up the Santa hat and smiling.

Wrex shakes his head firmly. "I don't need to get into the spirit of anything. You humans can keep your stupid rituals, I just wish you'd stop bothering me about them."

"Christmas is a time about everyone getting together, Wrex," I insist. "Family celebrating a special time of the year. And, personally, I like to think of us as family."

"Don't," Wrex mutters.

"Just have some fun for once," I say, lifting the hat and trying to put it on his head. Wrex knocks my hand away, scar on his face stretching as his brow furrows, red eyes burning into mine. "Come on, Wrex, compromise here."

"I already compromised," he snaps. "I let this happen in the same room as me."

"Put the hat on," I say. "Go on."

"No," he growls dangerously.

"Go on."

"No."

"Go on. Go on, go on, go on, go – urk!"

Wrex's scaled hand grabs me by the throat, lifting me off the ground as my back hits the wall and he leans in so I can smell his breath. "No," he says, in a voice I imagine is the one a lot of people have heard before they died. "Are you trying to piss me off?"

"You've got to admit," I gasp, "it's good fun."

Wrex drops me with a sigh, as I cough, gasping in breath again. "For you. Most people don't see annoying a krogan as fun."

"Yeah, but you're a nice krogan."

"Don't call me that," Wrex groans. "I should have put you off this earlier. Like Ash kicking your ass."

"What about me kicking his ass?" Ash suddenly asks, idling over to stand next to the two of us. "Does Ian want a Christmas sparring match?"

"No," I say, far too quickly, making both Ash and Wrex laugh. "I'm just saying, Wrex ain't putting his Santa hat on. It's not cool."

"I'm not going to try forcing him," Ash says, grinning at the relieved noise Wrex makes.

"At last, one human understands. You're alright, Chief," he mutters. Ash doesn't actually say anything back…but she seems to appreciate the comment. Gotta say, she's come on a lot since the aliens came on board. Thinking back, I can see why she was suspicious at first, too. I mean, it was never an issue for me, but being cautious about aliens potentially getting Alliance secrets is fair play. Now she trusts them, it's not a problem. She gets on well with Wrex, Garrus, Tali and Liara, so just calling her speciesist isn't fair at all. To be honest, I'm just as bad for labelling her that in the first place, so good we've both been proven wrong on our misconceptions.

"Even if you don't want a hat, you've got to accept a present, Wrex," I say, noticing the pile of presents in Ash's hands, and I can see one labelled for Wrex. The krogan picks it up, practically crushing the box as he unwraps it…and a small smile comes onto his grizzled face. "I got you two the same thing, actually. Underslung grenade launcher."

"I know what it is," he interrupts, still staring down at the attachment. "For an annoying human, you're not bad at buying gifts."

"I do my best," I mutter, taking advantage of Wrex's temporary distraction to slip the hat onto the top of his head. Ash barely contains laughing as Wrex's head comes up again, and the krogan's totally oblivious to what he's wearing. Perfect. "So, uh…I'm gonna go over and see Garrus. Talk to you later."

"See you," Wrex grunts.

"Talk to you later, Ian," Ash says, still smiling at Wrex's hat as I make good my escape. Man, I do not want to be around when he finds that…

I can see Garrus' blue visor by the Mako as I head over to him, exchanging a few 'merry Christmas' greetings with random crew members as I walk through. I'm obviously not the only one thinking to talk to him, though, as I see Shepard standing with him, leaning in close. Despite trying not to eavesdrop, I hear a brief snippet of their conversation.

"So, I've got a present lined up for you," Shepard says, grinning as she puts her head next to the side of Garrus' head, pressing her hands against his chest. "But it's not exactly under the tree."

"Oh?" Garrus asks, more than happy to play along as his talons circle around Shepard's waist. "That sounds…interesting, Commander."

"Didn't I say anyone calling me that would get thrown out the party?" she asks teasingly, one hand going up and stroking behind Garrus' fringe, making the turian purr gently and his mandibles twitch as he leans into Shepard's neck.

"It'd give me an excuse to get up to your quarters," he says, and I see his talon slide down Shepard's back slowly. "I could wait up there, get things ready for a present of my own."

"What are you getting at, Vakarian?" she asks.

"Well," he whispers, "I know how you like -"

Oh God, this is gonna go _way _too far now. I cough loudly, making both of them turn around. Garrus' fringe immediately flushes a deep blue, and Shepard's cheeks turn a bit red. The human laughs it off immediately, though, while Garrus shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "How much of that did you hear?" she asks.

"More than enough."

"Spirits…" Garrus groans, resting his head in one hand.

"Hey, what you two get up to off-duty is your business," I shrug. "Sorry to have interrupted. I figured you'd just want your presents."

"Oh?" Shepard suddenly says, head snapping around at the mention of 'presents'. "If you've got them to hand…"

"Well," I say, pulling out a package I picked up from under the ship Christmas tree on route and handing it to Shepard. "I was thinking about getting you a 'world's greatest Spectre' mug, but they were out of stock, so instead…"

"Blasto the hanar Spectre," Shepard finishes, tearing off the wrapping and grinning at the cover of the vid. "What, is this your way of trying to give me career advice?"

"He's a maverick, Shepard, but he gets the job done," I laugh. "I figured you two might have some stuff in common. And Garrus, I got you an eBook. Should have been sent to your omni-tool just now."

Garrus opens it up, mandibles flexing at what he sees. "A Dummy's Guide to Human Women?" I can still remember his shenanigans in-game with romance, so I figured it wouldn't hurt.

"Just to try and alleviate any sort of, you know, interspecies awkwardness," I explain. "I know what you're like, mate."

"Since Garrus doesn't look like he's going to thank you for that, I will," Shepard laughs, turning to look at the turian. "Maybe that's something for you to read, instead of calibrating the Mako all the time." Garrus growls lightly, making Shepard and I both laugh again. "So, what did you get Ian, Garrus?"

The turian miraculously produces what's obviously a small bottle in wrapping paper, and I grin as I take it off him and unwrap it. "You really need to work on your gift wrap skills, mate," I chuckle. "The whole point is I can't tell what…wait, what the fuck is hypoallergenic body wash?"

"It's for the shower," Garrus says, mandibles stretching as he grins wide. "But it doesn't affect people who have allergies. Like, say, dextro and levo reactions."

"I don't have allergies -" The penny suddenly drops for me, as I look down at the bottle, across the room at Tali, then back at Garrus, causing him and Shepard to break out laughing at me this time. "Oh, good one, Garrus. You really pushed the boat out this year, didn't you?"

"I try," he shrugs. "Shepard, don't worry about this. We always by each other stupid presents. It's a tradition."

"Not one I've heard of," she replies, raising an eyebrow.

"Me neither," a familiar, slightly gravelly voice says, as Kaidan walks over and stands next to me. "Care to explain it?"

"Only after I give you your present," I say, fumbling in my pocket and pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. It only takes a few seconds for Kaidan to open it, and look down at the pot of hair gel with a mixture of surprise and mild annoyance.

"Are you trying to imply something, Ian?" he asks good humouredly. "I like my hair as it is, thanks."

"I figured you must need a pretty big supply to manage that every day," I shrug, looking pointedly at his hair. "Besides, a new style wouldn't hurt. The 1970s called me the other day and asked for their hair back, so…"

"Very funny," Kaidan sighs, taking the hair gel anyway. "So, what's this story about you and Garrus buying joke presents?"

"Well," I say, looking to Garrus as I think back. "It was our first Christmas together on the Citadel. Well, technically our second, but Garrus wasn't home first time Christmas came around. Killjoy."

"I was filing reports at work," Garrus interjects. "For the human detectives who'd taken a holiday. I was doing you a favour."

"Yeah, excuses, excuses," I mutter. Garrus gives a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands up as I continue. "So, we'd just got back from a fun day at work, full of energy and ready for Christmas."

"We were tagging a big illegal shipment we intercepted," the turian explains. "Hundreds of weapons and narcotics to process, since most normal staff weren't in the office, but Pallin made us come in. I felt like curling up and dying when we got home."

I turn to look at him, putting my hands on my hips. "Can you quit ruining the story? We'd got home, and Garrus still barely knew anything about Christmas itself, despite the fact we were supposed to buy each other presents…"

############

**December 25th 2182  
****6:34pm Citadel time  
****Ian Shaw and Garrus Vakarian's apartment**

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" I shout as Garrus and I walk into the apartment, the turian letting out a deep sigh as the door slides shut behind us. Which is fair enough. I've been bugging him with this all day at work, out on patrol, humming jingle bells while he's driving, all that good stuff. Sure, he looks pissed off, but only because he can't handle all the concentrated awesome in one day. "You excited for your first Christmas, Garrus?"

"I'm still not sure what's so special about this," the turian grumbles, sitting down on the couch as I flop down next to him. "All you've talked about all day is presents. Why is giving presents on this day different to any other day?"

"Because it's Christmas," I shrug. "Look, I don't make the rules. This is just how it works. Accept it and get into the spirit of things."

Garrus gives me a long look, before sighing again. "Well, who am I to go against the law?"

"That's not quite what I meant by getting into the spirit of things, but it'll do," I reply, grinning. He is incredibly stubborn sometimes. "Come on, I know turians are all allowed to practice whatever religion they want. You must've seen _some _Christians on Palaven celebrating Christmas, right?"

Garrus' response takes on a sardonic tone. "Think about it, Ian. When I still lived on Palaven, it had only been a few years after the Relay 314 Incident. Turians weren't really ready to embrace human customs just after that."

"Ah, shit," I frown, thinking back. It's not exactly a huge surprise turians weren't following our customs back then, considering they freakin' hated us. "Good point. Still, you're not feeling animosity towards me because of that, are you?"

"Of course not," he replies, giving me a reassuring smile with his mandibles opened a fraction. "I was too young to catch the hard feelings. If celebrating this Christmas thing will make you happy, I'll give it a shot."

"Thanks, man," I grin, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Hey, you reckon we should call Pallin, see if he wants to join in the festivities too?"

Garrus gives me another long look. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Sure," I shrug innocently. "Pallin seems like the party type." Garrus gives a flanging chuckle at that. "What? Am I reading him wrong?"

"I don't think you've quite gotten the hang of reading other turians."

"I can read you well enough, though," I say. "You're clearly more excited for Christmas than you're letting on, for one thing."

"Was it that easy?" Garrus asks sarcastically. "And I thought my poker face was perfect."

"Tell that to the pile of credits I made on C-Sec Skyllian Five night," I laugh. "Sucks that Rebecca can't make it, though." The room does feel oddly empty without her…and I was hoping we'd all be able to celebrate Christmas together. Well, we will once she gets home, but not for as long as I planned. Ah well. I'll just have to make Boxing Day extra special for her… "Bastards at the medic department have her in the office on call."

"Yeah," Garrus says, nodding. "Actually, since this is such a big deal for humans, why couldn't they get a turian or salarian?"

"Because Rebecca is, unfortunately, the best at what she does," I say with a shrug. "And her boss is a wanker."

Garrus laughs wholeheartedly at that. "Good point." The turian's head swivels around the apartment quickly, taking in the modest tree and light decorations that he helped Rebecca and I set up. "So what exactly are we supposed to be doing for this Christmas thing?"

"Eating, drinking, friends coming together and exchanging presents," I explain. "But, I don't drink alcohol, and I was gonna wait for Rebecca before we make any food. We can do the last two, though."

"You mean the friends and presents? Now, that I can do," Garrus says happily. "So, what have you got me?"

I quickly jog over to the tree, grabbing a small card and placing into his talon. Garrus quickly tears it open, looks down at the contents…and places his head in his hands. "What did I do to deserve this?" he asks. 'This' being a subscription to a dating site I got him. Because I'm a bastard.

"Well, after what you were like with Michel, I realised you could do with someone. And you must be getting jealous of me and Rebecca all the time, right?" I say, stupid grin forming on my face before I can help myself.

"Wow, if only you could be this perceptive during investigations," Garrus says, sarcastic tone slipping back again.

"You're welcome," I say, completely ignoring him. "So, what did you get me?"

"I think you're going to love this." Garrus gets up and walks over to the fridge, pulling something out…but keeping it out of my line of sight until he gets back to me. "Here. I thought you'd enjoy this." With that…he places a very familiar sandwich into my hand.

"Varren sandwich," I sigh. All the way back on our first case together we got this, that one morning on the way to work…I can't believe he actually kept it in mind this long. "Damn. Well, credit to you for remembering. Is it funny or sad that for our first Christmas together, after everything we've been through, our immediate instinct is to buy each other joke presents?"

"I think it says a lot about the interesting comradery that's developed between us. We feel so comfortable with the other that we can get joke presents knowing that there'll be no hard feelings." Garrus pauses for a long time. Damn, is he really getting all deep on me? "Or we're just natural assholes. Not sure which." Oh, of course not…

I laugh, leaning back on the sofa and grinning at him. "Can't it be both?"

Garrus leans back too. "Don't see why not. So is this a normal Christmas, or am I just that special?"

"Eh, normally I take it a bit more seriously," I admit. "So, yeah, I guess you're just that special."

Garrus chuckles at that. "Glad to hear it."

"I can give you a proper Christmas gift if you want," I suddenly say. "Nothing material, unfortunately, but...thank you. That's what I can seriously give. My thanks."

"As sappy as that is," Garrus replies, "I appreciate it. And not that I don't deserve it, but why are you thanking me this time?"

"You didn't have to do any of this," I say, gesturing around the apartment for emphasis. "I mean, letting me live with you. Hell, _inviting_ me to live with you. Especially as the first human detective in the department...you've just been really good to me, man."

"It was the least I could do," Garrus shrugs. "You've been a good partner, and you've certainly made this past year an interesting one."

I laugh. "You're telling me. Interesting seems like an understatement."

Garrus gives me a sidelong glance. "Now that I think about it, my life seems to be in danger a lot more than it use to be."

"Hey," I protest. "I never got in this much trouble until I met you." Well, more accurately until I met Shiara, but close enough…

"Then I guess we're destined to fall into shit together," the turian says.

"What a lovely image that is."

"I certainly thought so."

"Well, here's to another year of things being 'interesting'," I smile, doing the air quotes. "Why change now, eh?"

"Exactly," Garrus nods. "Though I don't see how things can get more interesting than an elcor serial killer and a crazy drug dealer."

"I'm sure the Citadel has more psychos lined up for us somewhere," I say. Like Dr. Saleon…the one case I know anything about. For some reason the whole thing has me feeling apprehensive…and I can't quite place why. Garrus can't know that, though. "Bring em on."

"I'll drink to that," the turian says, then looks around towards the kitchen. "Speaking of that, where's the alcohol?"

"Probably in the fridge," I shrug. "Grab me a bottle of a soft drink or something, and we can toast it."

"Can do," Garrus replies, getting to his feet with a small grunt of effort and walking over to the fridge, grabbing a turian ale for himself and a bottle of fizzy juice for me, chucking the bottle across to me as he sits down and raises his own. "To another interesting year!"

"Cheers," I grin, knocking my bottle into his. After everything the job entails, it's great being able to actually relax for once. Just Garrus and I.

"Merry Christmas, Ian," the turian says, taking a sip of his drink. I smile back up at him, downing my juice and settling back contentedly.

"Merry Christmas, mate."

**A/N: Merry Christmas to all of you too! And a happy 25th December to those who don't celebrate Christmas. Hope you all got what you were after and are enjoying the day. **

** Business as usual next chapter, but hopefully this was a heartwarming addition to your Christmas Day. Or something like that, I dunno. So, from all the MtM cast (except maybe Grundan), Merry Christmas, and see you next chapter!**


	32. Ian vs The Infection

Chapter 32

Amyst: Monsters

**A/N: This continues directly from the last flashforward, just so you know what's going on here. In case you already managed to forget what happened last time.**

**#########**

**October 16th, 2185  
9:41pm, Omega time  
Archangel's hideout**

I sigh, then suddenly jump at the sound of my stomach growling. "Shit, I haven't eaten in a while…" There's another faint growling noise, but this time not from me. "Was that you?"

"No."

Both Garrus and I pause, then after a few seconds, yet another growl.

"Come on, that was totally you."

"Ian, I'm not making that noise."

"Well, if it's not you, then…" I bring my sniper rifle up again, pointing down the bridge. The sight I see makes my blood run cold. "Oh, you've got to be shitting me."

"VARREN!" Garrus shouts, pointing down the bridge at the huge pack of them dashing towards the base. I'm guessing at least ten, from first glance…and the lead one is halfway across the bridge by the time Garrus and I have raised our rifles. At least varren don't have shields, letting my first shot bring one down with a bullet to the flank, its yelp filling the air as I pull back the bolt as fast as I can and plug another one lagging behind. Garrus snipes one…but the turian's second shot misses as the varren disappear under the balcony.

"And now they're in the base," I groan, folding the rifle and pulling out my pistol, checking the clip for ammo then ramming it back in again in a quick, practiced motion. "Well, I don't see how this can possibly get any worse."

"We've got Blood Pack troops massing across the bridge!" Garrus announces, pointing his gun their way as I turn to look…and then hurl myself down with a shout of panic as they start shooting at the balcony, making me crawl behind cover again.

"Damn it, play fair, you fuckers!" I yell over the gunfire, looking nervously at the door into the room. Locked door, thankfully. Meaning the varren shouldn't be able to get in. Though I'm not exactly happy having seven of the bastards just scooting around on the lower floor of the house. Melanis would've been fucking furious at them tearing up the place like this…one was enough. "I probably shouldn't have said 'things can't get any worse', should I?"

"I really thought you would've learned that by now!" Garrus grunts, leaning over the balcony and letting his shields absorb enough shots to let him headshot a vorcha running at us. I join in, laying down some pistol fire to keep them suppressed while Garrus hits them with the precision shots. "They're trying to use the varren to distract us and get mercs inside."

"I can deduct these things myself, you know, I was a detective too!" I reply, crouching back again as we cut through merc numbers and I start reload. "Still, at least they're stuck out there-" I hear a snarling noise, cutting off my sentence as I see a varren with its front paws on the railing next to the locked door, muscles tensing as it prepares to jump into the room…straight at me. I move to put a new clip into the pistol, literally missing the gun the first time around as the varren growls. Fuckfuckfuck, reload, RELOAD!

I yell as the varren jumps and the clip _finally _goes in, letting me fire off three quick shots into the beast's belly as it leaps on top of me and pushes me into the wall with its dead weight with a weak whine. "Remember how I was gonna say the varren were stuck outside?" I gasp, shoving the dead body off quickly as I try to scramble back, moving across towards the bunks and reaching under my bed for the weapon I've got stashed there.

"Let me guess," Garrus mutters, not even looking at me as he snipes another target. "They're not stuck. That might have surprised me a few years ago, but now…"

"If the worst case has the potential to happen, it almost certainly fucking will," I finish for him, pulling my arm out from under the bed, clutching an HVB in my hand. High vibration blade, I think Laet called it, after I managed to snag this little puppy from the Blue Suns base a few months back. I need both hands to swing the damn thing, and I still don't really know how to use a sword very well, but I'm not exactly going to get into a fencing match with a varren. Just swing and get slicing. This thing cuts through stuff like a chainsaw through jelly, a hot knife through butter, Urdnot Wrex through a crowd of fangirls. I slide it onto a magnetic strip on my back, just in case the varren get a little too close. "Maybe the big window on this wall looking at nothing wasn't the best design idea, huh?" The turian doesn't even respond. "I'll pick them off from up here, can you take care of the mercs?"

"I've been doing it for hours, why change now?" Garrus asks rhetorically, as I lean over the railing to the room downstairs, watching a few varren pad up the stairs towards us while others sniff around the furniture on the lower floor, especially the four couches and table in the middle where we all usually took briefings. Well, two sort of intact couches, then two torn up with bullets and burn marks from missiles thanks to my antics with the gunship earlier, which is really gonna fuck up the house valuation…

I quickly pick one varren off with three rapid pistols shots into its head, and the creature crumples almost instantaneously from the bullets as I turn the sights on another…then hear a familiar beeping behind me as Garrus and I both turn to look at the middle of the room's floor. In between the bunks and the balcony we're using as cover, slap bang in the middle of the tiled floor…there's a grenade.

"Oh, fu-" I start saying, just as it explodes, shockwave catching my chest and pushing me over the railing with a yell. The sudden sensation of my feet not being on solid ground sends a huge, cold blast of adrenaline through my body as my stomach lurches and I try to grab my breath…only to have it knocked out straight away when my back hits the ground hard, armour the only thing saving me from broken bones as I groan and curl up instinctively. One of the mercs must have got a lucky throw, those motherfuckers…

"_Ian!" _I hear Garrus shouting over the comm. unit, and I look up to see smoke rising out of the still intact bedroom. He obviously got out of the blast…though somehow I doubt a few of the beds did. _"Are you alright?"_

"Fine," I gasp, getting to my knees, still wheezing. "I -" A huge force suddenly crashes into my chest as I look up, to see a huge varren pinning my chest with its paws and scratching at the chestplate, jaws snapping at my helmet. I practically scream from the suddenness of the attack as I wriggle in panic for a few precious seconds, letting the beast clamp its jaws around the lightly armoured neck area…just as I manage to force my back up enough to unsheathe the HVB and drive it up through the varren's chest with a furious shout, orange coloured blood covering my arm and part of my torso as I kick the corpse off me, my legs straining from the effort after the grenade. What the hell do the Blood Pack feed these things?

Actually, considering the Blood Pack are known for being savages, the regularly take prisoners, and varren will eat live prey along with having jaws they can unhinge…I don't think I _want_to know what they get fed.

I quickly scramble up to my feet, trying to get as much breath as I can and control my breathing before the next attack. I can see my pistol near the kitchen to the left…but the five varren carefully circling me, watching the sword, are kind of blocking that off. _"What happened?" _Garrus asks frantically, concern in his voice obvious as I hear the crack of a sniper rifle._"Talk to me!"_

"I'm busy trying to tame five war varren," I say quietly, swivelling around to try and watch all of them at once. "So, uh…give me a minute, alright? And for the love of God, make sure those mercs don't get in here."

"_I'm on it," _Garrus replies, as I turn my attention back, swinging the lowly humming blade experimentally in front of me. I've played plenty of Devil May Cry, but somehow I don't think it's going to help, given the amount of effort it takes to keep the sword up. The lead varren, marginally bigger than the rest, is facing me down now, hackles raised as it growls.

"Good doggy," I say, raising my voice to sound friendly as I stare at all of them and shuffle towards the stairs. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" The varren growls even louder. Okay, that's not working. "Look, buddy, I'm trying to be your friend, cut me some fucking slack. If you _don't _kill me, I've got some meat knocking about in the fridge I swear you can have."

The varren stares at me for a few seconds, blinking. What? Did that work? Have the Blood Pack managed to get varren to understand English? Is this varren just smart? Oh, wait, never mind, he's growling again, and I can see his muscles tensing. I probably shouldn't be too surprised by Blood Pack trained varren not being susceptible to sing-song voices…

It dives for me, but this time I'm ready, quickly sidestepping and swinging the blade down as hard as I can at the spot where I was standing. The varren gets decapitated quickly and cleanly, causing me to look away from the disgusting sight of it bleeding out as I turn to the other four. "See what happens, guys?" I ask, panting, then raising the HVB at one random varren and stepping towards him suddenly, making it jump back. "You wanna go, pal? Huh? You wanna fucking go?"

The varren immediately springs forward with a snarl, ducking my swing and latching his jaws around my left gauntlet and trying to pull me down. "I was joking!" I shout, trying to swing again at the wriggling varren and cutting into its side, as it still clings on. The second stab makes the struggles weaken, letting me kick it off as it bleeds onto the floor. "Joking! Look it up, you obnoxious little bastard fish dog things!"

Apparently the varren have enough understanding of English to misinterpret my satirical insight on their appearance and innocent play on their popular 'fishdog' nickname, since the remaining three just rush me from the front.

I immediately turn around in panic, vaulting over one of the couches and crouching behind it as the first two jump over me, and a marginally smarter one comes around the side, but I've got enough time to rise to my feet and use the movement to accelerate the sword, slicing through the varren's belly and leaping back, raising one hand up by my cheek with my elbow back as the sword arm points towards the ground slightly. Yes, I'm using the 2008 Prince of Persia combat stance, I don't have anything else to fucking go off.

"Two on one, guys," I gasp, arms aching as I look at them. "But I'm the one with the sword, so if you want to call it quits, I'll let you-" The one on the left charges, but it's a simple matter of jabbing the sword forward and through its jaw as I get used to the weight again. Which leaves me and the last one, trying to circle around and flank me as I follow its movements. Rather than letting him make the move this time, I jump forward, managing to push the blade up through its open mouth and then quickly yanking it out, panting heavily as I look at the blood absolutely covering my right arm and most of the armour torso. "Stay down," I gasp, glancing at the varren corpses scattered around as I deactivate the sword and slide it onto my back again, briefly resting my hands on my knees. "Please, stay down…"

"_The mercs are pulling back," _Garrus reports, as I finally rise to my feet fully and head back up the stairs to our room, readying my omni-tool to unlock the door. "_They must have realised they need a better plan."_

"Then let's pray they don't think of one," I gasp, walking over to Garrus and slumping down on the chest high balcony wall next to him, resting my back and head on it as I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I'm exhausted. Now the adrenaline's worn off, my arms are aching from the sword, chest and back are killing me from the hard impacts with the floor I've been taking, and I suddenly realise there's red blood mingling with the varren's as I look down at my left hand, puncture mark in my palm already being filled with medi-gel as the wave of pain I was keeping back hits and makes me groan quietly. Thank Christ my suit's still got enough medi-gel, or I'd die from an infection before the mercs even get to us… "Or if they do, at least that they take long enough for me to recover…"

"You're hurt," Garrus says, sounding concerned as he shuffles over, removing his helmet as I lower mine and pulls my hand into his talon to inspect it.

"I'm fine," I say quickly, trying to pull away, but Garrus keeps hold firmly. Great, now he's in his bloody 'field medic' mindset…turian army teaches everyone first aid, so I'm stuck here until he's completely convinced I'm not going to die. Not that I don't appreciate the concern. "It's a flesh wound."

"Deepest flesh wound I've seen," the turian mutters cynically, eyes narrowing. "Come on, Melanis isn't around to look, you don't have to pretend." I breathe out a small chuckle, trying to stop my thoughts drifting to the female turian and the rest as Garrus gently touches the wound with his hand, making me hiss in pain and try to pull away again, and this time Garrus lets go, looking at me with concern.

"Come on, doc, what's the diagnosis?" I ask, chuckling. "Give it to me straight."

"You've got enough medi-gel to stave off infection for a couple of hours, but that's a deep bite," the turian says. "It's going to need proper medical attention."

Proper medical attention? My smile slowly starts to die as I look at him. "Is that a joke? Because this really isn't the time."

"If Monteague was here, I'd get him to do it," Garrus says, flexing his mandibles. He's trying to hide it, but I recognise his 'worried' expression. "We need a medic. Chakwas would be really useful right now…"

"Wait, wait, how bad can it be?" I ask frantically. "Why can't you do anything?"

"I wasn't exactly top of the class in the medical section…" Garrus replies.

"Course you weren't," I sigh. "So, what, if it gets infected…will they have to amputate?" It's a worrying thought…but hey, on the bright side, prosthetics these days are pretty much on a par with the real thing, so I'd survive.

"Well, the infection is probably in your bloodstream already," Garrus says quietly, looking down at the floor. "I saw a few guys back in the turian military who got bitten by these wild varren while they were out on patrol, real nasty pack that ambushed them. By the time they got back to base, the bite wounds got infected…and, uh…"

"They died," I say bluntly. Garrus just nods awkwardly. "Great. Fucking great." I sigh again, staring up at the roof and willing this whole thing just to end. "I'm guessing it's not a nice, painless death?" The turian opens his mouth to reply, but his expression gives it away. "Don't answer that," I say quickly, holding up a hand. "If it turns out Shepard's on Purgatory while we're doing this, I'm gonna kill her from beyond the grave…" Garrus just doesn't reply to that, as I stare down at the hand that's apparently killing me. Well. Fuck. "Funny thing is, I used to like varren, you know that? Like Ghost." I think back to the albino varren we managed to rescue… "I can't believe the mercs killed him when they came here. They couldn't spare a bloody pet. Or maybe they just hate varren too." Still nothing from Garrus. "Come on, man," I say, looking over. "I'm dying, at least laugh at my jokes."

"I don't really think the death of a pet- or a friend -is worth laughing at," Garrus replies quietly. "Though if I have anything to say about it, you're going to live, and we're going to make the mercs pay. Dearly."

I frown at him. I hate it when he closes up like this…but he's being doing it more and more recently. Sidonis obviously just made it worse. He did change in ME2, I know that, but watching it happen is almost heartbreaking. "I'm past revenge," I sigh. "Honestly, I just want to get out of here. And you would have used to laugh at this stuff. Even if it was just to try and cheer me up."

"I thought I was cheering you up," he replies, half-jokingly. "You mean you don't want to survive this infection?"

"You know what I mean," I snap. The prospect of being killed by a varren bite is getting to me, but so is he. No words of comfort, just the cold promise of revenge once we get through this. _If we get through this, _I hear the cynical part of my brain whisper.

Garrus gives me a solemn look, then glances over the balcony again. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's changed," he mutters, almost quietly enough for me not to hear it. Is he trying to turn this on _me?_

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I ask, grabbing his shoulder so he swivels to look at me.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Ian?" Garrus asks. "You never would have snapped at me like this before. I'm not saying change is a bad thing, but you need to learn to recognize it."

"I wouldn't have snapped at you like this before because you never gave me a reason to!" I reply, trying to ignore my hand wound throbbing as we lock eyes. "And change is a bad thing, especially the way you're going."

The turian's voice drops to a dangerous whisper as he talks. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I've got a potentially lethal infection, and the first thing you think about?" I say, frowning. "How to get revenge on the mercs. Not comforting me, laughing with me, telling me it'll be alright, just how to kill everyone responsible."

"Seeing as the mercs have the medical supplies necessary to help you, killing them is the only way!" Garrus replies furiously. "After everything that's happened, losing you is the last thing I want, but I also need to be realistic. If I want to help you, those mercs need to die."

"If you want to be realistic, you said it yourself, those supplies don't mean shit unless we can get a proper medic!" I shoot back, almost shouting. "They'll keep the infection away for, what, another hour? Maybe two? Then we'll get to the point where medi-gel stops doing anything, and all the dead mercs in the world won't help with that, Garrus!"

"You're the one who keeps telling me Shepard will get here on time," he says, fury in his voice dropping. "Well right now, I'm clinging to that hope because it's all I have left. If I can do_anything_ to make her job easier, I will. She's bound to have a skilled medic, so if killing mercs gets her here faster, I'll kill as many as necessary. I'm worried sick about you, Ian, but I also know worrying won't help get you better."

I look at him helplessly. Logically, he's right. Killing the mercs will help Shepard, it keeps us alive, and buying me more time is a good idea. But…it's the lack of emotion that's freaking me out. "It won't help me get better," I say, nodding slowly. "I know that. But it'll just help me."

Garrus sighs, sounding frustrated as he looks at me. "Shepard will get here on time. Even if she doesn't, I _will_ get us out of here. I'm sure that free clinic run by that salarian can help you easily."

I manage a small smile at that. I know he does care, and it's good seeing that…I just gotten so used to him all these years, seeing him change sucks, even though I knew it was going to happen eventually. Plus he's right about me. Like it or not, I wouldn't have got annoyed with him if we'd been in this situation a year or so ago. "Come on, Garrus," I say, laughing a tad hysterically as my eyes roll up and I slide further down the wall. "We don't have a plan for that." I look down at my hand again, medi-gel slowly leaking onto it. My life running out. I'm determined not to die here, but the odds are getting more and more against us…

"I'm sure I can improvise something," Garrus says hopefully. "At the very least, I'm sure some of your incredible luck has rubbed off me on now."

I laugh again, lifting my infected hand limply. "Not so lucky now, huh?"

The turian's mandibles widen in amusement. "Maybe I took too much." I can't help a small grin at that, despite the situation.

"Something like that," I mutter, pausing briefly before I look at him again. "Sorry for…you know, having a go. And being a hypocrite."

Garrus slides down next to me. "It's fine. I'd be pissed off too if a rabid varren gave me a disease."

"Could be worse," I mutter. "It could be scale itch. That'd just be awkward."

Garrus laughs at that, the sound cheering me up almost straight away as his flanging voice fills the room. "I wonder how you'd explain that to the doctors."

"With great difficulty," I reply. The two of us sit in silence for a few seconds. Few precious seconds. No way we're just gonna wait here for me to die, though. Like Garrus says, push comes to shove, we'll improvise. I'm not letting a varren bite kill me when I could have fought to live. "So, I've really changed that much, huh? For you to actually comment on it?"

"It was heat of the moment," Garrus replies quickly. "Forget it."

"I don't mind," I shrug. "Considering I was giving you shit for it when I'm probably just as bad."

"Yeah, you're different," he nods. "But you were barely older than a child when you came to C-Sec. With everything you've been through with the Normandy, Saleon, everything here…I'd have been more worried if it hadn't changed you. Besides, you still have that awful sense of humour," he adds with a sidelong glance.

"Jealously is a terrible thing, Garrus," I chuckle, then get cut off halfway by a gasp as my hand gives a sudden painful throb. "Fuck," I mutter. "We can give Shepard another hour. Then…we're going to have to take things into our own hands, aren't we?"

"That sounds about right," he nods, then gives me an imploring look. "She will be here. Won't she?"

"She'll be here," I reply firmly. "Maybe not in time to get us before we have to do this, but I swear, she won't be long after. And that's the worse case scenario."

"If the worst case has the potential to happen, it almost certainly fucking will," Garrus says, repeating what I said to him during the varren wave, though his tone of voice is good humoured.

"Touché," I nod, reaching for the sniper rifle, then gasping at the pressure of it on my hand. Guess it's just a pistol now…

"Worst comes to worst, we get ourselves out of this mess," the turian replies. "We've been in tighter spots, right?"

"Too right," I say, looking back up over the balcony as I rest my pistol arm on it to steady my aim. "So. What now?"

"We've got an hour to wipe out every merc company on Omega," Garrus replies nonchalantly.

"Great," I mutter. "I fucking hate time limits."

**A/N: I really do hate time limits in games. Ugh. Anyway, with infection looming, time's running out for Ian and Garrus…and that makes it sound like a zombie film almost. Huh.**

**Special thanks to TheRev28 for helping out. Again.**

**Anyway, Happy New Year to all of you! Olympic year, as the news over here keep stressing, so that's nice. Hopefully we won't cock it up too bad.**

**The start of a new case next chapter…well, technically it's a double case, since there's two separate plots going on during it. You'll see. And sorry to everyone who was expecting Case Zero, I've kind of got writers block on it. Because MtM3 is a lot more exciting to write, haha.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing (almost 1000 reviews, argh) and I'll see you next chapter!**


	33. Ian vs The Primarch and The General

Chapter 33

Ra Ra Riot: Too Dramatic (Anamanaguchi remix)

**January 14th, 2185  
****10:46am, Omega time  
****Archangel's hideout**

It's been two months since we killed Gus Williams at his private spaceport. Well, more accurately, two months since _I _killed Gus Williams, but that's not really important. I haven't gone off the rails, started shooting random people or monologuing to myself Max Payne style, so it's fair to say the shooting didn't affect me as much as I'd initially feared. With Mierin and Williams dead, life just…went on, I suppose. We were all down about it for a week, but everyone mostly kept to themselves to get over it. No big breakdowns, just quiet remembrance amongst the group. Somehow I don't think Mierin would've been the type for wanting massive breakdowns and sobbing, mainly because the poor bastard would've found it viciously awkward. Hell, we all would.

Omega welcomed in the New Year with typical enthusiasm; people packed into Afterlife, cheap drinks, bar fights, couple of murders, gunfire all through the night, usual sort of shit. I mean, we were too busy taking advantage of every merc being blind drunk by replacing a shipment of weaponry with boxes of 'Happy 2185' wristbands to actually get involved in the festivities directly, but it looked pretty crazy from flying over in the shuttle. Plus the krogan bouncer at Afterlife apparently got a bit tipsy (and subsequently angry) while on the job and punched out the annoying queue guy. He's lost his job for it too, and they've replaced him with an elcor, which I'm proper sad about. Especially since the elcor didn't know about the 'arrangement' between Aria and I at first and refused to let me in. Prick.

Back with the squad, things haven't been too bad. Butler and I forcing Christmas on everyone helped lighten a few moods, plus a string of successful missions taking down small-time extortion rackets has everyone feeling good about themselves. I mean, we've been having an impact on Omega for a while, earning reputations…but people seem to have real hope because of us now. Omega might still be the same shithole it's always been, but the people feel like there's some guardian angels watching out for them. Given the shit they've been putting up with before we arrived, no wonder people around here appreciate good deeds.

Sensat's doing pretty good. We've been asking her for any information on Umbra she might have, but she's saying she doesn't know or remember, and we've got no reason not to believe her. Whoever or whatever Umbra is, they're still as enigmatic as ever. No trace of them at all since we rescued Sensat. Then again, considering the name means 'shadow', it'd be more surprising if they were showing up everywhere. The name might be stupid, but at least it's appropriate.

We've still not had Sensat out on missions, though. Vortash is basically forbidding it, and he's fiercely protective of her, so for now she's just staying with us. I'm more than comfortable with that too. After everything that's happened to her in that lab, she deserves even some semblance of normality. It's rubbing off on her too. She seems more relaxed, less feral, less weird in general. Even if she still loves the 'honest liar' name she came up with for me. Still, whatever she knows about me, she's keeping it to herself.

Melanis seems to be lightening up as well. Maybe it's because of the effect we're having on Omega, maybe it's because of the talk we had after dealing with Williams, maybe it's me becoming 'somewhat competent', to quote her begrudging words, but these days it feels like she genuinely doesn't want to kill me every ten seconds. It hasn't stopped the constant insults, sly put-downs and total lack of Tupari, but hey, it's progress.

Which is more than I can say for Grundan Krul. When he said he was watching me after our small fight, he wasn't lying one little bit. Wherever I go around the house now, he seems to be there, in the corner, leaning against a wall, keeping tabs on my missions, everything. Out of everyone, he still hasn't let Mierin go. Or he just plain hates me. Either way, it's getting annoying. And given the secrets I keep, having someone who follows me around everywhere is a problem I really could do without.

Especially with the visions. I managed to escape throwing up for a few months after that one time before we killed Mirki'it, but now they're back, and with a vengeance. I've had two more during the day over the past few months, and plenty of times waking up in the night. Whether or not they're strong enough to make me sick is inconsistent, but increased frequency, and intensity, is freaking me out, along with that voice at the end I can't understand. It's got to be happening for some reason, but asides from it getting closer and closer to the end of the ME timeline, I can't think of anything. And I hate having no answers.

Plus the only people I can talk to about it are Garrus and Tali. The latter of whom is getting sent of progressively more and more missions by the Admiralty Board, the bastards. Even if Tali doesn't seem to mind. Our message and video call rate is still low, and like it or not, I _have _to tell her about the trial and the risk to her father soon. I won't be able to forgive myself if he dies…I'm just hoping she forgives me about not telling her sooner. Then again, she did ditch me at a spaceport and put off setting up video call facilities, so it's not exactly my fault I've been feeling so nervous about telling her something that could destroy a relationship.

So, I've got an angry batarian creeping on me, apocalyptic visions to figure out, a turian who may or may not betray us in a few months, brutal training regimes to maintain, and mercenaries to kill.

Same shit, different year, right?

########

**SERIAL KILLER CLAIMS TRIPLE HOMICIDE**

I sigh, putting down the datapad I have the news downloaded to and raising an eyebrow at Melanis and Garrus, who're eating breakfast opposite me. Melanis and I just took a break from moving target practice to actually get something to eat, since we started at 7am, but at least I can keep up with her these days. By moving target practice, I don't mean the targets are moving. I'm the one doing the moving. Tackling an obstacle course as fast as I can, while shooting targets at the same time.

Yes, her training regime is cruel, unusual, unorthodox and downright sadistic at points, but as much as I hate to admit it, it really works. Whether or not I keep up a similar routine on the SR-2 remains to be seen, though. As much as I love early training, I also love an early bacon sandwich…

"Good to see they're not trying to spark a panic," I mutter, spinning the datapad for Melanis and Garrus to look at the headline. Neither turian looks too bothered as they glance up from their food for a second, then look back down. "You know, just in case people around here need _more _of an incentive to carry a weapon around all the time. Paranoid people with guns. Brilliant."

"Look who's talking," Melanis chuckles. "That last bit just about sums you up."

"Eh, true," I shrug. "Though I imagine the less people like me there are, the better?"

The turian's mandibles flex as she looks at me. "Pre-empting my joke. Not bad."

"Cheers," I grin, then look over to Garrus. "What do you think? Everyone's already suspicious of everyone else on Omega. You throw in a serial killer, we're gonna have wannabe detectives executing every shady person they know in case they're the killer."

"Half of Omega's population is shady," Garrus says through a mouthful of food. "So if that happens, a serial killer is the least of our worries. Do they even know there's a serial killer, or are they just making this up? Like the story about that alleged male asari?" He's got a point…Omega has free media, but sometimes it's a little bit _too _free. Especially since this place is one of the biggest rumour mills in the galaxy. Sometimes the news networks around here don't get it quite right, even if their intentions were probably good.

"Do you ever look at the news?" Melanis asks incredulously.

"It's depressing," Garrus replies simply.

"To be fair, it is pretty depressing around here," I say, glancing down at the article again. "But still, it's good to keep up to date. There's been a few more human deaths recently, and not the usual gunshot ones. People are finding bodies laid out in the street, not a mark on them, except for bloodshot and bulging eyes. All the reports say it's pretty much the only thing you can see on the corpses. No detail except for the eyes. Whoever's doing this, they're using some nasty shit."

"Aren't the mercs doing anything about it?" Garrus asks.

"They're a bit distracted trying to stop us blowing their stuff up," Melanis replies cheerily.

I frown at the article again. First time this came up, I figured it was some revenge killing…but the merc groups usually claim some kind of responsibility for that, even if it's just whispers. This has happened three times now, and no suggestion the mercenaries are involved. I'd look into it…but the bodies get dumped for the vorcha virtually straight away. Omega doesn't exactly do murder enquiries. Besides, I'd need forensics, at the very least, never mind the fact I was a contraband detective. Still, I've seen more than my fair share of homicide crime scenes…so if the opportunity arises, I could look into it. Should look into it. Having a serial killer running loose is a bit of an issue, after all.

"We should probably just keep an eye out for the killer," I say, rising to my feet and tossing the datapad onto the table for someone else to read. "If you guys see someone murdering humans, be sure to shoot him."

"You're so full of good advice," Garrus says, not looking up.

"Thank you."

"How's stuff going with the tainted eezo?" I ask, walking up behind the two turians and resting one hand on each of their chairs. "Do you need my not inconsiderable expertise?"

Melanis makes a choking noise on her food as I say that, while Garrus addresses the question. "We're fine," he replies. "And it's going well. Jaroth's been running this thing for years. From the looks of it, about half our cases back at C-Sec were because of this supply line."

"Well, be sure to get good revenge for all the paperwork we had to fill out with that shit," I say, patting him on the back. "You too, Melanis. Do me proud."

"Just try not to burn the house down while I'm gone," she says, growling dangerously as I give her the same pat on the back I gave Garrus.

I sigh, rolling my eyes. "I'll hold off on practicing Incinerate until you get back, then. You two kids have fun without me. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"We're not going until later tonight," Melanis explains, as I start to stride off towards nowhere in particular. Might just go and bother someone for conversation, I don't do that enough these days. "So you're not off the hook for training." I furrow my brow, closing my eyes briefly and not even bothering to turn around.

"Didn't think I was," I lie. "Just…gimme an hour's break, alright? I need a good recovery period."

"You already do," Melanis says, as I turn around and give her my best puppy eyes. "For fuck's sake, don't look at me like that." I make my eyes even wider. "Fine." Yes! "One hour. And you'd better be getting consistent headshots when you come back."

"Sure, sure," I say quickly, setting off towards the living area before she can change her mind. I get nowhere near as much downtime now as I did on the Normandy, meaning I kind of learn to appreciate these free periods. I can see quite a few people bustling about, Erash reading while he lies down on a couch, Sidonis fiddling around with his omni-tool with a frustrated expression next to him, and I quickly catch sight of Grundan watching me from the stairs up to the bunks. Fuck, guess I'm not going over there…

I make a quick detour to Sensat and Vortash's room as I leave the kitchen, rapping my knuckles on the door while I look down at the red lock. She's settling in better…but we still barely see her or Vortash outside of her room, and I always feel like Sensat could do with talking to people other than him. Even the 'honest liar'.

It only takes a few moments before the door slides open to Vortash towering over me, eyes looking me up and down cautiously as his red-painted mandibles twitch. "Hi, Vortash," I say, smiling to try and counter his unfriendly nature. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

The turian steps to the side with typical lack of words, letting me walk into the fairly spacious room. Two single beds spaced apart, a small table with two chairs, and a large couch facing a screen which seems to be playing some turian comedy show I vaguely remember hearing about…_The Primarch and the General, _where a turian general and primarch get themselves into a wide variety of kooky political situations through misunderstanding and differing viewpoints. It sounds cliché as all hell, but it's genuinely pretty funny. Turians do snarky comedy extremely well.

Too bad the reason Sensat's watching isn't so light-hearted. Part of getting her to normality is integrating her with people again, after everything that happened to her. Vortash reckoned her watching shows would help…and given that she's laughing at the jokes, I'd say he's got it right. I glance to the turian as the door slides shut behind me, faintest hint of a smile on his face as he looks at the laughing human. He's not the friendliest guy…but he's an incredible person for doing this. "How's everything with her?" I ask quietly, not wanting to distract Sensat's attention just yet.

"Fine," Vortash replies. "Today's a good day." That's another thing with Sensat…she can have mood swings. It's usually brought on by her thinking about what happened to her in the Eclipse base, but they can pass as soon as they suddenly appear. It's still sketchy, though. She broke one of Vortash's talon by biotically pushing him during one of the earlier ones. It didn't stop him, though.

"And what's up with you?" I ask, meeting his gaze. Vortash looks…tired. Mandibles drooping a fraction, eyelids lowered, not enough to be easily noticeable, but still definitely there. "If you want to go get something to drink, I can keep an eye on Sensat until you get back."

"I don't need a break," he snaps, bristling at the suggestion of leaving Sensat. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see how the two of you were doing," I say. "You know, talk. Stuff like that."

"If this is you trying to ask more questions about Umbra, she already told you she doesn't know anything," Vortash says. "That's the end of it."

"I know," I reply defensively. "I'm here as a friend, not an interrogator. Lighten up."

The turian frowns, looking me up and down again. "I've heard that before, about Amarantha," he says. "People saying they wanted to be her friend, doctors, carers, everyone, no-one ever meant it."

"I do," I insist. "This squad is like a family to me, and I know it sounds dumb, but you're a part of that."

"My family were killed," Vortash replies, voice emotionless, like he's simply relaying a fact. "Sensat's is gone. The squad isn't going to change that."

I stare at him, trying to get a read on the guy, how he can't even trust people offering friendship. They're both damaged in similar ways, I guess, him and Sensat. Both had to see horrific things in their lives. His family were murdered in front of her eyes, and the files Monteague went through showed the horrific images Sensat was made to see. He's got no-one left except for himself, and neither does she. No wonder they bond so well. The fact she's like his dead daughter doesn't hurt either… "Just give me a few minutes to see how she's doing," I say. "Please. I don't care if you don't trust me, you know talking to other people is good for her."

Vortash's eyes narrow, but I can see him nodding his head slowly as they do. "Fine. For her sake, not yours. And if she wants you gone, you go."

"Got it," I nod. Vortash gives me another glare for good measure, then steps aside, freeing the way for me to walk up to the couch Sensat is on and sit down next to her. She doesn't even look away from the screen as I take in her appearance. Her previously long, wild black hair has been cut back to just beyond shoulder, but it's still got its curly aspect to it. She's around the same height as me, so about 5'7", thin frame, and quite small, delicate features. She looks incredibly fragile, actually. At least until you see her in combat… "Hey, Sensat."

"Hello," the girl says, still not looking at me, but not in an unfriendly way. She's still focused on the show, bless her.

"You alright?" I ask, sticking to generic questions to try and kick off some manner of conversation. "What're you doing today?"

"Watching this," Sensat replies, nodding her head towards the screen. "It's funny. I didn't know turians were so dumb."

I chuckle, then quickly look over to Vortash, who appears not to have heard that little comment. "I think the ones on that show are the exception rather than the rule. I mean, look at Vortash. You don't think he's stupid, right?"

"No," Sensat says, shaking her head. "He's just sad." She stops looking at the show when she says that, turning to look at the turian…and her expression actually seems sympathetic as she does. "He tries to hide it around me. Like you do."

"I'm not sad," I reply quickly.

"No, but you hide all the same," she says, still smiling innocently at me. She genuinely has no idea what she's probing at…to her, this is just normal conversation. "Vortash tries to be happy. He smiles to me, talks to me, looks after me. But I know he's not."

Fuck, how do I explain this in sensitive terms? I can't just say 'yeah, his family were murdered in front of his eyes, that might have fucked him up a bit', but lying to her won't solve anything. "He's been through a lot," I finally say. "I mean, we all have, but not as much as him." Vortash is just staring down at the floor in the corner, lost in his own world as Sensat and I talk. I get the awful feeling he's trying to bring his dead daughter back through Sensat… "He just worries about being able to look after you." I try a reassuring smile. "You're important to him."

"He tells me that," she nods. "It doesn't help him."

"Turians aren't stupid, but they're stubborn," I say. "He needs time. That's all." It's a totally meaningless statement. I have no idea what Vortash needs after everything he's had to deal with, and I'm not sure if trying to relive Amarantha is healthy…but I can't separate the two of them. "I'm interrupting your show. Sorry."

"It's alright," Sensat says, smiling. "It's funny. The misfits are the nicest ones. Vortash, you."

"You know I don't like you calling me that," I say, trying to sound disapproving.

"But it's true," she insists. "We both know that you don't fit in here. Honest liar. I can see it."

I chuckle, trying to inject some humour into the situation as I look down at the floor, glare at it to get the frustration out my system, then look up to Sensat again. "I fit in just fine. But thanks for saying I'm nice."

"It's true," she repeats, then turns his head back to the show while I look at her, and she laughs at one of the jokes I miss. I'm not sure whether to be happy she and Vortash have each other, or sad that it's becoming harder and harder to tell which one is looking after the other.

"That's long enough," a turian voice suddenly barks, and Vortash rests his talons on the back of the couch. "She's watching her show."

"Good seeing you two," I say honestly, rising to my feet and heading to the door. "Enjoy the show, Sensat." She responds with a little smile, not looking away, while Vortash does nothing, taking the seat next to her as I leave. Shaking my head, I walk back out into the main living area, slumping down on the couch next to Sidonis and Erash before leaning my head back and staring up at the roof.

"You look relaxed," Sidonis comments sarcastically.

"I was just talking to Vortash and Sensat," I reply, which basically counts as an explanation in itself, judging from the understanding look on both Sidonis and Erash's faces. "It's nice talking to them, but fucking hell, he hates anyone being near her."

"It is hard to fault him for being protective," Erash points out. "Sensat is like a daughter to him."

"That's what worries me," I mutter quietly, then drop my head down to their level again. "So, what's going on?"

"I'm trying to get my copy of Fleet and Flotilla to work on my omni-tool," Sidonis mutter angrily, pressing buttons seemingly at random before hissing and dropping his omni-tool arm to his side. "Fucking thing won't work. I transferred the files off the copy you bought me for Christmas, but the video files don't run!"

"The movie companies make it so you the files are locked or something," I shrug. "Means you have to buy the digital copy."

"Fuck," Sidonis mutters, repeating his favourite word as he glares at the omni-tool, presumably trying to use the power of his mind to bypass security locking. "That's a waste of credits when it's right here!"

"I am sure Grundan Krul could decipher a way to make it work," Erash says, not sounding bothered at all as he keeps reading off his datapad. "Pirating vids is probably within his level of expertise."

"It's not pirating, I own the fucking thing!" Sidonis protests. "And Grundan may not hate me as much as he hates Ian, but we're still not friendly. He'd tell me to stop wasting his time if I came to him with this!"

"Haven't you watched Fleet and Flotilla like seven times already?" I ask, knowing fine well I'm correct. First he made us all watch it once on Christmas day, when it was a heartwarming (if a little clichéd) addition to the day, but ever since then I've been catching him watching it by himself. "I mean, it's good, but it's not _that _good."

"Personally, I think they butchered it compared to the novel," Erash says. "You cannot fit the tentative relationship steps from that into a two hour vid, no matter how masterful the director is."

"The book's better than the movie," Sidonis says in a sing-song, imitation voice, before shaking his head, grinning at the other turian good-naturedly. "You don't know what you're talking about, Erash. Books can't get across the scenes, the actual sight of the Flotilla, the mighty turian fleet…"

"Unfortunately for the film-makers, I cared about the characters rather than displays of military might," Erash replies, a little too hotly given the friendly nature of Sidonis' comment. "The turian military stopped impressing me a while ago."

"It was just a joke," Sidonis says, sounding surprised at the sudden shift in Erash's tone. Gotta say, I am too. "Fuck, Erash, you don't need to bite my head off."

"I just think that there is more to life for turians than the military," Erash says, looking back to his book as Sidonis gives me a look and shrugs. I raise an eyebrow, shrugging back.

The three of us sit in silence for a minute or two, then Sidonis gets up, gesturing over his shoulder awkwardly. "I'm going to see if anyone else knows how to sort this out. Maybe Laet will be able to do something."

"Alright," I nod. "See ya." Sidonis quickly gets up and walks out, leaving just Erash and I as I peer at him over the top of the datapad.

"You mad, bro?" I ask.

"Pardon?"

"I don't really think Sidonis was trying to offend you about the whole military thing," I say, as Erash rolls his eyes and puts down the datapad to look at me. "Hell, I don't think either of us realised it was such a touchy subject."

"I have told you before," Erash replies patiently. "The military did not agree with me."

"I know," I nod. "But potatoes don't agree with me, and I don't freak the fuck out when they're brought up in a conversation."

Erash sighs, sitting up on the sofa to look at me properly. "Alright. I'm phrasing this wrong. The military _violently _disagreed with me."

I raise an eyebrow. "Should I interpret that literally?"

"That is what I was hoping you would do," the turian mutters. "You know I served on a biotic ship. My commanding officer and I did not see eye to eye on many issues, including crew discipline."

Ah, Erash's CO must've been getting a bit handy with the crew…that's not good. Apparently the Alliance can be just as bad, which makes me glad I signed up with C-Sec rather than those guys. Especially since I don't really trust the Alliance a huge amount anyway… "I thought the turian military was strict anyway. You know, following orders without that question, that sort of thing. It's your culture, right?"

"An aspect of our culture," he nods. "But one that is over-ruled by an instinct of serving the greater good. I was fine with orders. I was not fine with corporal punishment being given out for no plausible reason."

"And you acted out," I nod. Hell, I already respected Erash, but him standing up for the other people on his ship like that bumps the respect up a few more notches. "Good for you, man."

"As it turned out, not so good," he chuckles. "I was given a dishonourable discharge. The crew I was trying to protect turned on me."

Oh, that sucks… "Seriously?"

"Like you said, most turians do not question orders," Erash replies. "My crewmates were no exception. But I made my decision, and I stand by it."

"Ah, you're better off without them," I shrug. "At least you managed to hit the guy who was doing it, though. He got what he deserved."

"Perhaps," Erash says, in a tone that wasn't as enthusiastic as I expected. He almost sounds sad. The moment passes quickly, though, as he looks up to me again. "That was that, anyway. My experience of our glorious military. Turians with dishonourable discharges have virtually no place in our society, hence ending up on Omega."

"Well," I say, thinking the whole thing through. Hitting his CO to protect the other people on his crew…takes some balls to do that. Especially since he probably knew what it would lead to. "You did the right thing. Hell, if I was in your position, I would've done exactly the same. You didn't have a choice."

"There is always a choice," Erash replies, shaking his head. "But thank you. You understand why the military is…how did you put it, a 'touchy subject'?"

"That's it," I nod, smiling. "I'll leave it alone."

"I appreciate it," Erash says, lifting the datapad again and pressing a few keys. "Have you heard about this serial killer?"

"Yeah," I say. "People dying without a mark on them, eyes bulged like it's the only thing on their face you can see."

"It is terrible what people will do," Erash says, shaking his head.

"At least he's not cutting people up and selling their organs," I mutter, catching the weird look Erash is giving me for saying that. "We had that back at C-Sec. Leaving the bodies unmarked is a mercy, trust me." Rather than Caltan Xenvalis going at them with a saw or something…haven't seen a single biotic elcor since him, and I'm _very _glad about that.

"The killer is either brave, or he has made a mistake," Erash comments, looking through the article I presume is open on his screen. "The three bodies they found…two of them are humans Blue Suns mercenaries."

I sit bolt upright in my chair when he says that, beckoning for the datapad frantically. Blue Suns deaths means an investigation. A preserved crime scene. Evidence. Forensics. Everything I need… "Let me see that," I ask, and Erash tosses the datapad into my waiting hand. Alright, three dead, serial killer, blah blah blah…and a statement released by the Blue Suns five minutes ago confirming the death of two of their men. The statement promises 'an investigation into the circumstances around these deaths, and a swift end to the terror caused by the perpetrator.' Oh, this is perfect!

"What are you smiling at?" Erash asks.

"The Blue Suns are investigating," I grin. "Which means I can piggyback on their stuff and put some work into finding this killer myself." The turian doesn't look convinced. "Mate, the station's in a panic over this, and there's a killer on the loose. You really want to leave the responsibility of catching whoever's behind this to the _mercs?_"

Erash looks at me, then chuckles, shaking his head. "No. I do not. Do you really think you can do anything in this situation, though?"

"I'm at least going to check," I shrug. "I'll have to go check the crime scene when there's less activity…it'll be under guard, but there'll be no-one else in tonight."

"And the rest of us will be out looking into Jaroth's eezo smuggling," Erash adds.

"It beats sitting around here on my own," I say, still smiling to myself. "Alright, it's settled. I'll go and check it out tonight."

"Have fun with that," Erash chuckles, stretching out on the sofa as I rise to my feet, heading to my locker to make sure everything I'll need is in there.

Ye of little faith, Erash. They said the Tayseri Ward Butcher case would never be solved, but we managed that. And he cut people open in the street, and stole their organs. The serial killer here is a small time psychopath compared to him.

It's been over a year since my last case, but here we are. On Omega, the most unlikely of places, I'm about to visit a crime scene and start piecing together bits of the puzzle. Just like old times.

Oh, it's good to be back.

**A/N: There we go! The two plots of this arc laid out there; Jaroth's eezo operation, and the mysterious serial killer. I've got at least one very big thing planned for this arc, so you've got that to look forward to as well! Or not, as the case may be.**

**Oh, and I have a string of exams coming up. Hence January updating might slow down a fair bit during them. I should still be writing, though, so no worries.**

**And the story got past the 1000 review milestone. That seriously means a lot to me. Thanks for sticking with it so far, telling me what you all think, generally being an awesome community to get to know, and enjoying the story! Here's to many more chapters in the future!**

**Until next time, bye!**


	34. Ian vs The Crime Scene

Chapter 34

The Dead 60s: Ghost Faced Killer

**January 14th, 2185  
****9:43pm, Omega time  
****Omega streets, lower industrial district, 3F**

Alright. Looks like now's the time to make a move.

I've been hanging around above the crime scene for a good two hours now, clambering onto a nearby rooftop to get a vantage point over the whole situation as I waited for the Blue Suns people to clear out, occasionally flicking thermal vision on to check their numbers. Now that it seems safe, I'm crouched in shadows on the ground, stealth suit hiding me from sight. It's a typical murder spot. Secluded alley in a rarely used industrial district, meaning a virtual guarantee of no witnesses, flanked by tall buildings on both sides so the victim only had one direction for escape, limited lighting to keep the element of surprise. This shit is textbook. And given the location, pre-mediated seems extremely likely. Typical serial killer trait.

Apart from a couple of guards positioned around the perimeter, everyone else has left. Leaving whatever's in there open for me. Besides, it's not like I'm stealing evidence…just copying it. The mercs can investigate the same time I do, and they don't need to be any the wiser. Hell, if they solve the damn thing, it's still a win from my point of view.

Garrus was fine with me going on this little escapade too. They don't need me with Jaroth just yet, so I've got nothing but time. Apparently I've picked up chasing serial killers as a hobby now, but I suppose it beats knitting. I check thermal vision one last time, confirming just two guards below me. A human and a turian, patrolling in alternate directions around the square crime scene. So, I need to take them out, get in there, copy as much evidence as I can, and see what there is for me to actually go off. Hardest part is going to be taking care of the guards.

There's a tent set up in the middle of the area, presumably to cover the evidence from the outdoors and contain all the necessary equipment and files. It means the two guards can see each other when they're walking up and down the alleyway, but not when they're walking across it. Which gives me a narrow window to strike. Let's think this through…

I close my eyes, imagining the scene as I plan my attack. It's going to have to be non-lethal takedowns, since any blood or bullets could contaminate the crime scene. Besides, they're just random guards. No need to go all Rambo on 'em. I can utilise temporary unawareness of the other's position to approach, neutralising the human with an arm snap, coupled with a blow to the back of the head. Turian might require a more delicate approach, since the fringe and carapace protects them from that treatment, along with different bone structure. Lure him over with his downed partner, then strike. Kick the spurs to make his legs buckle, punch soft area between mandible and the back of the neck to stun, then couple that with a couple of punches to the facial area to make sure he takes a good, long nap. It'll probably ruin the whole 'handsome turian' thing they have going, but hey, it's that or killing him.

My eyes fly open, plan set in place as I quickly exit the shadows and jog stealthily towards the human, planning my movements to intercept him as he walks across the alley. Once I'm about twenty metres away, I activate the tactical cloak, upping the pace to get behind him before it runs out. Here we go…I grab his arm before he can react, stretching it to its full length then ramming my palm into the lightly armoured elbow. It bends with a sickening crunch, the feeling of bone and muscle stretching and breaking under my hand uncomfortable as I quickly punch him in the back of the head, letting a small shout leave his lips before he hits the floor unconscious. I quickly back around the far corner of the tent, as I hear the turian coming around the other way. Perfect…

"Drew?" I hear him ask, as I edge around the other wall of the tent, then dart around so I'm behind the clueless turian, who's holding his assault rifle up nervously as he looks down at his unconscious partner. "Oh, fuck, what the fuck is-"

I put him out of his misery before he can freak out too bad, delivering a quick kick to the spur, hard punch to the sensitive area on the side of his head, then follow it up with three rapid right jabs to the face until he goes down, landing on top of his friend unceremoniously.

"Hugging," I mutter, looking down at the two bodies. "That's cute." Drawing in long breaths, I flex my right hand, fingers aching from the punches to the turian. Those plates make it feel like I'm hitting a wall, I swear. Fucker didn't even manage to hit me, and he's still making me hurt.

Gotta get these guys out of sight, though, in case anyone comes by. Uh…I can't put them in the tent, since that could contaminate the crime scene…but there is are waste disposal units lined up along the alleyway, presumably for the industrial companies nearby. I look down at the two unconscious bodies, then one large bin next to me, smiling apologetically under the helmet. "Sorry, lads."

It takes about five minutes to drag each body to the bin, and heft them up and into it, mainly since turians are so damn heavy I thought I was just gonna have to leave him. Even so, I can't help chuckling as I step through the holographic cordon. When the two of them wake up together in a dumpster…boy, that's gonna be an awkward conversation. Especially if they don't remember someone knocking them out. Physical recovery might only take a few weeks, but their friendship probably won't survive. Waking up in a dumpster with someone without any memory of how you got there is usually bad for relationships.

I place both hands on the opening to the tent, feeling familiar anticipation as I do. Potential evidence waiting, theories to form, leads to chase down, answers to find. The thrill of starting a case never leaves you, I guess. Or I'm just weird. Jury's split there. I can virtually hear Melanis saying "you're weird" in my head, as I finally push through into the crime scene, looking down as I shake my head. She's getting me to insult myself on her behalf when she's not around…that's fucked up. I'm definitely not passing that on.

Plus I need to focus on the case. I'm used to lots of small holographic signs being laid out to highlight evidence points…but there's barely anything. No body either, but that's not surprising. Mercs will have take it for post-mortem already. I'll have to work out how to get into the mortuary later…

Against the right hand wall of the white, sterile inside of the tent, there's a terminal set up on a table in the corner, which seems far too big for just that. The forensics lead and blood spatter guy were probably using it to put their equipment down, though from the looks of it, blood spatter would've been wasting their time. Not a drop around here. Maybe they missed something? I quickly tap a few buttons on my omni-tool, opening up DNActive.

Man, I haven't used this thing since C-Sec days…wait, what? No, I don't want to update! For fuck's sake, you don't use something for a little bit of time, and they spring all this shit on you…but I'm not gonna cock this case up because I didn't update some software. You win again, technology…I reluctantly press the update key, then wait for almost thirty seconds as the progress bar stays at 0%. Wait, what? Is it not working? Should I start again – oh, wait, now it's at 1%. So it's working, just really slowly.

FUUUUUUUUUUU-

I sigh in frustration. It's times like these I miss the Citadel, with its fast public extranet, rather than Omega where public bandwidth is so shit I could probably program the update myself before it finishes. Still, the two guards aren't getting up any time soon, so I can check out the terminal while this thing updates. A quick press on the keyboard reveals what I was fearing. The bastard's locked. Not to worry, though, I'm sure I can hack past it…

I tap my omni-tool display, but it remains stubbornly on the update screen as I scowl at it. 'Update cannot be performed in the background'. "Why the fuck not?" I hiss, trying to quit out until a screen comes up saying 'do you want to cancel the operation?', to which I let out a muffled shout of panic, frantically trying to back away from that screen and inadvertently cancel the whole process.

Shit! I let out an annoyed groaning noise. This was all going so well! I actually managed to take down those two guards, like a boss, get all hyped up for an investigation, then as soon as I hit the crime scene I'm fumbling around with technology like an eighty year old trying to operate Windows Vista. Still, at least this frees me up to hack the terminal…it's not a complex system, though, letting me cut through and access files with no real bother. Okay, forensics, crime scene photos, initial findings on the body…that last one might be promising, since it's not to hand right now.

"Oh, shit," I say quietly, immediately recoiling at the picture at the top of the document, two human males with eyes literally bulging out the sockets. It's like someone ejected them out an airlock…all expanded, bloodshot, with pupils expanded, as the edges poke out the front of the socket, stretching the skin nearby. What the fuck happened to them?

I scroll down. Bodies were unmarked, just like the news report said. Nothing at all, asides from the effect on the eyes. Killing someone without visible marking is usually pretty tricky…I'm guessing poison, since that could kill someone with no external symptoms except the eye bulging, so that'll hopefully show up in a toxicology report. Waiting for results at C-Sec was bad enough without the added concern of having to steal said results as well…

The rest of the information isn't particularly useful. Time of death was estimated at 10pm, but the bodies weren't discovered until 7am, meaning we might've missed some evidence. Not ideal, but there's fuck all we can do about it…

Wait, 'we'? Damn, I'm getting a little too comfortable here. As much as I'd like to feel like I'm back at C-Sec, gotta remember I'm actually flying solo on this one. Let's see what else is here…forensics didn't many to pull any recent DNA samples other than those of the victims either. Well, fuck. This is quite the conundrum. No weapon, seemingly no forensics evidence, and not a trace left behind. Who are we dealing with?

I quickly plug an OSD into the terminal, tapping my foot impatiently as it downloads. I could take this back to Garrus and see what we can work out, but until the full post-mortem and forensic examinations come back, I can't see this case going anywhere fast. "Just my luck," I mutter, pulling out the OSD after the successful download. "One time I try branching out on my own, but no, the serial killers can't go making it easy for me-" I suddenly cut myself off, all my senses jumping to attention as I hear…

Footsteps! Fuck! I pull my pistol out cautiously, pointing it towards the tent entrance as they draw closer and closer. Please, just be some random passer-by, don't come in…I hear the movements stop at the cordon, then suddenly start again, suggesting a pause on behalf of their owner. I reassure my grip on the pistol, waiting for someone to appear. At least I'll have the drop on them, right?

Before I get the chance to pull the trigger, a human bursts into the tent, eyes narrowed in a cool and collected expression as he points his own handgun at my head. He looks like he's in his late 20s, Caucasian, with short black hair gelled into small spikes at the fringe, some serious stubble, and a confident smile around his face as he looks at me, Blue Suns insignia obvious on his otherwise formal clothes. He's not exactly muscular, but there's an athletic strength to him similar to mine. And, most importantly of all, he doesn't seem particularly fazed by me pointing a gun at him.

"Where are the guards?" he asks simply, hands not even shaking as neither of us move.

"Sleeping in a dumpster," I reply. "It's really unprofessional of them."

"Ah, yes, the 'merciful' Deadpoodle," he says, somehow managing to do airquotes just by using his voice. "Living up to your reputation, I see."

"It's Deadpool," I sigh. "_Pool. _My reputation obviously isn't good enough to let people remember that."

"Obviously not," he replies coolly. The two of us continue facing each other, neither flinching at the Mexican stand-off we're in. I could just cap him and get the hell out of here…but then that'll probably end with me getting shot up too, and I'd rather not die here. Plus shooting him will contaminate the crime scene.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask. "We're just gonna stand here until someone's arms get too tired to keep the gun up?"

"If we have to," the guy says. Fuck, I hate it when other people are chill too! "So, Archangel's got you damaging our crime scenes now? That's classy. Helping out serial killers, just because they're giving you a hand with the mercs."

I chuckle at him. "Aye, that's right. We get along great with the serial killers. I've got like five of them on my speed-dial, we get together every week, have a few drinks, it's a total laugh." I see his mouth curl up at that. "Come on, mate, at least class us with some integrity. We're here to protect the people."

"By killing mercenaries?"

I shrug. "When the two things lead into each other, then yeah." Another pause, neither barrel shaking. "And I'm not trying to contaminate your crime scene."

"Really?" he asks sarcastically. "Because you could have fooled me. Accessing our files and everything. If I look and they're all missing, I'm not gonna be pleased, you know."

"They're on this," I say, holding up the OSD in my free hand. "None of the ones on the terminal have been touched, I swear to you."

The man raises an eyebrow. "Stealing evidence?"

"I was gonna put in a formal request, but I figured you guys wouldn't really be too responsive to sharing."

He laughs fully at that. I'm hoping it throws his aim off, but no such luck. Damn it… "You know, I'm not sure why I haven't shot you yet, _Deadpool_."

"Because you know I'll kill you if you do," I say. "That suit probably doesn't stop bullets so well."

"If you're that confident, why haven't you shot me?" he asks.

Seriously? "Are you trying to bait the guy pointing a gun at you?" No response, just the same confident smile. "Well, I assume you're one of their detectives on this case, right?"

"The lead detective," he nods, which makes the smile slip a little bit. Not a lot, but noticeably so. So he's obviously not happy about his position. Could be because of the pressure, but given that there's a gun being pointed at him and he's not batting an eyelid, probably not that. Maybe it's the reason he's ended up as lead?

"The only detective?" It's a gamble, but the sudden look of surprise shows I nailed it.

"Yeah," the guy says. "How did you…fuck it, doesn't matter. What does it matter if I'm a detective? Your 'team' has shot Blue Suns detectives before."

"The ones shooting at us, sure," I shrug. "But you're actually working the case to find this serial killer, same way I am. Even if I can't solve this, maybe you can. So, ideally, I'll not kill someone who's working towards the same goal as me."

"Ideally?"

"Well, self-defence means I'll do it," I say, making him chuckle. "I'm hoping to avoid that."

The merc gives me a long look. I can feel my arms hurting now, but I'm determined not to let it show, through both necessity and machismo pride. "You're not lying, are you? You're actually here to catch this killer."

"If I wanted anything else, I could've done it, shot you, and waltzed out of here a cool minute ago," I reply. "But for once, you guys seem to be doing the right thing, and I want to help out. Unofficially." Our guns stay up, but I get the definite sense he's wanting to use it less and less. "Look. Whatever your name is…"

"Evan," he says. Oh, giving me his name, even better…shows a small element of trust.

"Evan," I repeat. "We both want the same thing here. This serial killer caught. And contrary to what you think, I don't hate all the mercs, I just hate the ones who try and hurt innocent people. And you don't seem like one of them." Still no reply, but I'm taking that as a cue to keep going. There's an idea forming in my head…one I'm fairly sure the entire squad would hate. Though what they don't know won't hurt them… "I can help with your investigation."

"Oh, sure," Evan replies cynically. "What, you want me to get you a Blue Suns outfit to go along with that promise?"

"I'm not saying this is a permanent thing," I reply. "And trust me, this isn't calling a ceasefire with the Suns." God, this is so stupid…he'll probably say no, never mind all the shit I'll get if any of the squad find out. Then again, working together could be the only way to get this killer. Greater good outweighs the difficulty of having to lie. Besides, I've been lying long enough now… "Think about it, though. We can work together. The Blue Suns are more occupied fighting the other mercs and defending themselves to really give a damn about this case, you're the one detective, I bet you've got virtually no budget, superiors demanding results. This all right so far?"

"Uncannily accurate," he replies calmly.

"If we work together, I can get to the places you can't go. I don't have to worry about budget, or bureaucrats, and we both know you actually give a damn about this case."

"What makes you say that?"

"The fact you didn't come in firing," I say. "The fact that you're at the crime scene late, even when everyone else went home. Whatever you're doing here, it probably could've waited until tomorrow morning. I realise our organisations aren't overly keen on each other, but hey, greater good, right?"

Evan frowns briefly, narrowing his eyes. "I don't trust you."

"And I don't trust you," I shrug. "But I'll let it slide to solve this case."

"You're crazy," he replies, chuckling. "You're crazy, but you have an annoyingly good point. Right, if I lower my gun, you need to lower yours too."

"Alright," I nod. Holy shit, he's co-operating? I guess not every merc has to be a murderous bastard… "Count of three. One, two, three…" I drop my gun to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief as Evan does the exact same thing.

"I didn't think you'd do that," both of us say, at the exact same time.

"Well, I guess we're better people than we give each other credit for," I say, holstering the pistol as I think. This is a bad idea. I'm working with a Blue Suns mercenary. As far as the squad would see it, that's probably treason. I can't just let a serial killer get away because of that, though. "Well, uh…I guess we should do some detective work. Evan…"

"Carter," he says. I put my hand out for him to shake, but he leaves me hanging for a few seconds before I pull it away again. "I'm guessing I don't get your real name?"

"Deadpool will do you fine," I reply.

"Could've sworn it was poodle…"

I tilt my head to look at him. "You're a funny one, aren't you?"

"Sense of humour doesn't hurt in a job like this."

"You keep making comments like that, it might start hurting," I mutter.

"Well, ten seconds into our partnership, and you're already threatening me." Evan Carter gives me a big, shit-eating grin. "And I was expecting things to be so _nice._"

I shake my head, sighing. I'm used to being the only snarky person…but now I'm in a partnership with someone who seems to have the same sense for it as I do. Brilliant. "Just get me up to speed. You got any theories?"

"Nothing tight," Evan replies, tone becoming more business like as he opens his omni-tool, presumably reviewing the case notes. "Forensic evidence is severely lacking, and the bodies are-"

"Unmarked, I know," I nod. "I was hoping for information beyond what the news channels have?"

Evan glares at me. "We don't really have much more than that. I'm guessing you had plenty of opportunity to look around here before I turned up, so maybe you found anything we missed?"

To be fair, he's right. This crime scene is almost totally dead. "Well, the lack of marks on the bodies suggests a toxin was used," I say. "You'll need to get me the post-mortem so I can look into it, but poisoning is looking likely."

"I'm not so sure," Evan says. "We know the two dead guys were going to Afterlife, meeting some people from work there. But according to the people they were supposed to be meeting, they never even showed up."

Ah… "If they were poisoned, Afterlife would've been the best place to do it," I nod. "Maybe the killer poisoned their food or drink before they left?"

"The two of them lived in merc accommodation, so I doubt it," Evan replies. "Besides, when you're going for a party in Afterlife, who the fuck has drinks and stuff beforehand?"

"Just spit-balling ideas," I shrug, frowning to myself. Given these new developments, poison is looking increasingly unlikely…so there goes my initial hunch. "What else do we know about the two deceased?"

"David Jones and Ashraf Damji," he says, looking at his omni-tool again. "Low pay grade guys, they only signed on a month or two ago. The kind of grunts you and your squad would've killed anyway, even if this killer didn't get to them first." I just ignore the jibe. "We know they were heading to Afterlife, but never showed up. They were supposed to be arriving at around 9pm, but the friends they were meeting up with claim David sent a message ahead, saying they'd be a little late. Apparently they'd picked up some asari tail and they were going to see if she wanted to go with them."

That draws me to attention fully. "Asari? So…she'll have been the last person to see them alive?"

"We've already got an asari down as a suspect," he shrugs. "But there's nowhere near enough detail on the message to narrow down who. It gives us a species, but that's all. Knowing those two, they might have tried to pick up an asari, got shot down, then kept going and got jumped by the killer later on. The message got sent at 8:30pm, but the initial estimate at time of death was around 10pm. Why would the asari string them along for that long? And they would have to have left some forensic evidence…"

They met an asari. Then wind up dead an hour and a half later, bulging eyes, not a single mark on them. Biotics would leave a trace. Any organic should theoretically leave a trace, but maybe the asari cleaned up the scene. One asari overcoming two mercenaries without biotics, though? I guess it could be done. But that would require fighting, which leaves marks, so what am I missing?

What kind of asari draws in two men, waits for half an hour, then manages to kill both without a trace?

It takes less than three seconds to come to a conclusion.

"Ardat-Yakshi," I say quietly.

"What?" Evan says, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "Those myths?"

"Believe me, they're not myths," I shudder, thinking about Morinth. "They seduce people, kill them during mating, and basically absorb them. Very nasty, very dangerous, very big problem."

Evan raises his eyebrow even higher. "So…they're like kinky vampires?"

"Yes, Evan," I say, feeling exasperated. "If that helps you get your head around it, they're kinky vampires."

"That's bullshit," he laughs. "I mean, come on, Ardat-Yakshi, really? The bogeymen of the night?"

"Fine," I shrug. "Don't believe me. I'm telling you, with absolute certainty, they exist. I wouldn't rule it in if I didn't think that. Mainly because I don't _want _to think it."

The other human looks me up and down, smile slowly dying. "You're serious?"

"For once, yes," I nod. "It fits an Ardat-Yakshi MO. Seduce the target, hence the two of them messaging ahead. Then get them in private, mate, absorb them, leave the bodies and get the hell out of Dodge. No evidence, no case, no problem."

Evan frowns, running through his notes again. "It fits," he finally admits. "I'm not sure if we should come to conclusions before we get the post-mortem back, though."

"First forty-eight hours of the investigation are the most important," I say. "We need to pursue all the leads we have straight away."

"And how are we supposed to find an Ardat-Yakshi?" Evan asks. "They don't exactly wear signs or badges notifying people they're killers, do they?"

"No, but they like to hunt," I frown. "Bigger the prize, the better."

"You're a big prize," Evan says immediately. "Deadpool. Archangel's right hand man, the one all of Omega is talking about. Prizes don't get too much bigger, right?"

I glare at him underneath the helmet. "That was incredibly quick of you to just offer me up for sacrifice, mate."

"We need to pursue all leads, right?" he shrugs, grinning. Oh, of course he's enjoying this…probably won't even care if the Ardat-Yakshi kills me, just as long as he gets his case solved. "Rest of this place is dead."

"Yeah," I nod. "I just…I need to think for a minute." I brush past the human detective, as he types more into his case notes while I walk out of the tent and look up into the sky, breathing deeply and staring up into space, between the massive skyscrapers and the red-illuminated sky, sound of the ventilation on the station whirring away as I consider.

An Ardat-Yakshi is horribly plausible. Plus, like it or not, Evan's right. I'm best suited to baiting her. And I can't tell the squad, or they'll find out about my little helper, and this mission will be over before it's even begun. So, I might be looking at hunting down one of the most powerful beings known to the galaxy, with only a merc that I really don't trust watching my back. Great. Just fucking great.

I turn around to go back into the tent, just as my eyes catch on a ventilation fan, spinning around on the lower section of wall on my left. The bulging eyes could be Ardat-Yakshi, sure…but maybe I was close with poison. Maybe it wasn't directly applied to a drink…but gaseous forms of toxins definitely exist. "Evan!" I say, bursting back into the tent. "Take a look at this."

"What exactly am I looking at?" he asks, as the two of us walk out and I point to the fan, making a look of understanding dawn on his face. "Ah…a gaseous toxin."

"Not bad for a rental detective," I chuckle. "Maybe it's not an Ardat-Yakshi after all."

"But we can't rule it out because of that," he shrugs. "My post-mortem isn't exactly high priority, either. Could be another couple of days before I see any decent results."

"Guess we might have to look into it," I say, nodding as I sigh. "I'm taking what I've got back to my place, I'll see if I can find anything else. If not, we can sort out the next step we take tomorrow. Here." I open up my omni-tool to show my contact number. "It's untraceable, so don't even bother." Grundan made sure of that…

"And here's mine," he says, letting me copy it down. "Just don't get chatty over it, alright? Keep it to essential case stuff only."

"Same to you," I reply. "Oh, and…maybe don't tell your superiors you're working with me, huh?"

"Only if you do the same for Archangel," he says.

Don't worry about that, Evan… "Just between you and me," I nod. "Look, Evan, I know we don't exactly trust each other, but we're going to have to work together on this, alright? I'm willing to put things to one side if you are too."

"Yeah," he says, frowning. "I already told you, I can do that. For the case."

"Good," I reply. "That's, uh…yeah, good." God, this is so fucking surreal. Working with a Blue Suns merc, possibly chasing down an Ardat-Yakshi. I pray there's something in these files to exonerate an asari…and I'm still struggling to believe Evan's willing to work with me. Then again, since I'm alright with it, why shouldn't he be? "Keep me posted."

"Will do," he says. "Deadpoodle."

"Fuck you," I mutter, turning around and walking away as Evan descends back into the tent. I'll have to make sure he doesn't follow me…but that shouldn't be too hard. I head to the nearest fire escape, jumping onto the ladder and using the grav clips for extra grip as I propel myself up.

So, we're looking at an Ardat-Yakshi, or someone spreading toxins with gas.

Oh, this one's gonna be fun.

**A/N: And so, the investigation is set in motion. Along with an unlikely ally for Ian, and the possibility of being brutally murdered trying to look into an Ardat-Yakshi. Oh, the excitement.**

**Anyway, next chapter will be looking into the second case with Jaroth's little eezo operation. And it's definitely Jaroth, sorry if you were one of the first people to read last chapter and saw it written as Tarak's operation, ha.**

**So once again, thanks for reading, and see you next time!**


	35. Ian vs The Vendetta

Chapter 35

Anamanaguchi: Jetpack Blues, Sunset Hues

"Anybody home?" I shout, heading through the front door of the house and into the living room as I fold my helmet back into my armour and move to my locker. Evan didn't even try and follow me home, much to my surprise. I made sure to cover my tracks regardless, but I'm almost certain the Blue Suns man stayed in the tent after I left. I might not trust him, but at least he's not enough of an idiot to try and turn on me. Not while we have a common goal. I can extend him the same courtesy.

Course, I need to make sure no-one finds out about my new friend…

Silence greets my call, despite the fact I'm almost certain I heard people moving around when I walked in. Huh. Well, most of the squad are out sabotaging eezo shipments, so it should be only Laet and Monteague left. Guess they went to bed already. I reach into the locker, grabbing a change of clothes as I move towards the shower room, located nearby the stairs leading down into the vast basement area. Maybe not the best place for it considering most of us sleep upstairs, but as Melanis pointed out when I first brought it up, the house wasn't exactly designed to sleep twelve people.

I can just get changed in there, though. And I seriously need the shower…Omega always has this closeness to the air, a humidity born from sub-par ventilation and a constant battle between species between temperature in certain parts of the station. Combine that with running and jumping across rooftops, and…yeah, you get the picture. Lovely.

Dumping my handgun and other equipment, I snatch up a towel, already beginning to loosen the seals on my armour as I amble up to the corridor leading to the showers, whistling aimlessly to myself. I can probably enjoy this, make myself some pasta, then look at the files until the rest of the squad turn up and try to figure out the best way to get to an Ardat-Yakshi. And not get killed by her.

The fucked up thing is, it might be Morinth. I know she's supposed to only get to Omega just before Shepard recruits Samara…but hey, canon's been fucked up enough before. Samara might be behind on the trail, for all I know. We're close enough to ME2 events for it to be possible, and Samara's psychotic daughter isn't something that appeals to me, considering I've seen what she can do. Which is both a blessing and a curse. Samara's loyalty mission lets me know what buttons to push with her…but they also mean I'm going to be freaking out, knowing what and who Morinth is. Being absorbed to make her more powerful isn't exactly high on my list of priorities.

Assuming she's even involved. I'm not sure if Ardat-Yakshi can make eyes bulge out like that…but then again, I've never seen a victim of one, so I've got no idea. The rest of the theory fits too. As does the idea of a toxic gas being spread. But we can't rule either of them out until we're absolutely certain.

I suppose it's a good thing Morinth doesn't go for looks, considering you could make your Shepard an absolute trollop and she'd still bite. For her, at least if she gets the opportunity, it's all about the power she can take from the person she chooses, and her senses are sharp. Morinth might not specifically know I'm Deadpool, she might not know I'm not from this universe, but I'd bet my life savings she'll be able to get a scent of something from me. A scent that'll probably drive her crazy. If only I had that effect on women who aren't vampiric killers.

I sigh, pulling off my armour gauntlets as I walk past Laet's workshop on the way. I guess I'll have to co-ordinate with Evan tomorrow and see what the plan for getting me mind-raped is. Can't fucking wait.

I suddenly whirl around as the lock on Laet's door suddenly disengages, and I raise my hands in a defensive position…as I see him and Monteague staring at me. "Hey guys," I say, lowering my hands slowly, frowning at the weird looks they're giving me. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Monteague replies quickly. Is it just me, or does he sound out of breath? "We thought we heard someone come in, but we weren't sure. We were…"

"Monteague needed a hand with some calibrations," Laet says, barely stifling a laugh as the drell glares at him. Am I missing something here?

"I thought Garrus was the best for calibrations," I say. Laet practically has to shove a talon in his mouth to stop himself from descending into hysterics at that, and even Monteague smirks. "What? I'm being serious!"

"Sure, sure," Laet nods, looking like he's regained some kind of composure before he descends into flanging giggles again, mandibles rapidly widening and pressing back in as he does so. "So, uh…where have you been?"

I shake my head, deciding to just the subject of whatever private joke they have going here. The two of them can have fun with it. Even though I dunno what 'it' is. "Crime scene. You've heard about the serial killer, right?"

"Who hasn't?" Laet replies. "Lurking in the shadows at night, causing the eyes of humans to simply pop out at the sight of him." He leans in conspiratorially. "They say he's a demon. Something that only humans fear, that the sheer mention of him sends them running away, screaming. His name drives people to insanity, but the sight? At the sight, the body simply kills itself to escape."

I give him an unimpressed look. "Where'd you hear that rumour?"

"I started it," he shrugs, throwing up his arms as I roll my eyes at him. "What? I used to do it all the time back on the Citadel when any big news happened. Brought the customers back, since they figured I had all the insider gossip."

"And I used to wonder why the station got into such a panic over stuff sometimes," I sigh. "Thank fuck you were an armour merchant rather than a journalist."

He gives me a confused look. "Technically, I was both. They had to get their stories from somewhere, right?" I just gawp at him, before his face turns into the turian equivalent of a trollface, mandibles stretched all the way out as he opens his mouth in a mocking smile. "I'm joking, Ian."

"You'd better be," I mutter, turning to Monteague. "In the interest of getting a mature point of view on things, what's your read on the killer?"

"I'm curious as to how the effect on the eyes is produced," the drell muses, blue scales shifting as he breathes in. Laet's also breathing heavier than usual, so I dunno. Calibrations might be harder than I give Garrus credit for. "If I had a moment with the bodies, perhaps I could tell…"

"I should be able to get you a toxicology report," I say. "I know it's not quite as good as the real thing, but it ought to help, right?"

"Of course," he nods. "How will you obtain that, though?"

Aw, crap, awkward questions… "I'll just nick it off the mercs." Both aliens look like they don't follow. "Nick as in steal. I'll steal the files off them, at least when the post-mortem is done. Which might be a couple of days."

"They'll be keeping those files in a secure compound," Laet says, sounding unsure. "You're going to get in there, by yourself?"

"And a post-mortem shouldn't take more than a day if carried out quickly," Monteague adds.

Holy shit, they're tearing through my cover already. Literally in seconds. Funny, how lying about being from a completely different universe is easier than this shit… "A couple of days gives me enough of a window to be certain the results will be out," I explain, trying to keep my poker face on. "And a compound is no bother for me, you know that."

"That's not what Melanis says," Laet replies.

"Well, sometimes she's as full of shit as you are," I say, a little too harshly due to worry about slipping up. Monteague and Laet both look at me, before they burst out laughing.

"Touchy subject," Laet chuckles. "Didn't realise she had her talons in you that much, Ian."

"Right," I say briskly, "I'm getting a shower." I turn to walk into it, then suddenly swivel around. "And she does not have her talons in me. Whatever that means."

Monteague apparently deems it necessary to add his two cents worth, as he clears his throat. "You do get…riled, when people talk about her in regard to insulting you."

"I only just got used to it from her," I say. "I'd rather it just stayed between me and Melanis, rather than everyone else taking a pop at me too."

"It is almost like you enjoy it from her, but not anyone else," Monteague chuckles.

"And it's almost like you're reading way too much into it," I reply, turning to head into the shower room. "If you need me, I'll be on my bed, reading through the files I recovered. I don't want to keep you from Monteague's calibrations."

Laet's mandibles widen in a small grin, despite him obviously trying to control his expression. "We've got plenty more to do with them," he says.

"Well, you have fun with that," I reply, heading to the shower room as the turian and drell practically run back into the workshop, and the door locks red behind them.

Huh…odd guys. I wonder if Laet knows Monteague's gay?

##########

I run a hand through my hair as I look through the files again, desperately hoping some concrete proof that eliminates an Ardat-Yakshi pops out the screen and punches me in the face.

No such luck. The one time I'm literally asking for something to punch me in the face, and it doesn't happen.

I drop the datapad on the bed next to me, lying back and sighing. I really don't want to do this. Especially if it's Morinth. My earlier theory about Samara being behind on the trail seems a bit unlikely, though. Maybe she came to Omega, then fled to Ilium, then back here? Even if it's not Morinth, the fuck does it matter? Ardat-Yakshi on the loose are as bad as each other, to be honest.

I quickly open my omni-tool, typing out a message to Evan. He'll probably be done at the crime scene by now, plus the two of us should get used to keeping regular contact about the case. I suppose I may as well start the attempt at teamwork with the guy who works for our sworn enemies. No-one else is around, so…

_Had a look through the case notes and found fuck all :P . Looks like we're going to have to hunt down the Aradt-Yakshi tomorrow, unless you've found something. _

Hmm. I could make it a bit light-hearted. It alleviates the thought of me potentially being absorbed by an asari. It's not even like Morinth's sexy.

_So, I'm really praying you've found something, cos being bait for a killer isn't my idea of a good night._

Ah, that's not even that funny. Wait, why do I even care? It's not like I'm trying to fucking date the guy.

_Anyway, just get back to me with the plan. Or if you manage to track down any leads. Cheers._

I press send and lie back again, running things through. Vents and a toxin. Wouldn't leave a forensic trace of the killer…though they probably would've had to be on the scene to release it due to the localised effect. Which means there should be _something. _Rather than a total forensic blank. Plus, the only people killed so far have been humans. Could be a fetish on the Ardat-Yakshi's part, or it could mean something else entirely.

Theories, theories, theories. I hiss out a frustrated noise through my teeth. Having nothing concrete sucks. At least Xenvalis was considerate enough to leave us enough evidence to track him down. He did dislocate my shoulder and practically kill me when we did that, mind, but still.

The now familiar sound of the squad shuttle knocks me out of my thoughts, and I sit up in the bed to look out the dorm window, just in time to catch it descending in to land. No-one called ahead, so presumably the mission was a success. Whatever the mission actually was. We've been sabotaging eezo shipments for about a month now, same tactic as we did with Mirki'it's red sand, and it's working rather nicely. Of course, Eclipse has more resources than a drug dealer, so it's taking a wee bit longer. Wouldn't hurt to go and check on the team, though. Sitting here thinking things over is getting me nowhere.

I hop out of bed, calmly walking over to the stairs…then suddenly freezing as I hear a familiar Scottish accent swearing loudly as he barges into the living area, across into the comm. room, then locks the door behind himself. I look over the stair rail, to see Garrus sighing in exasperation as the rest of the squad file past him.

"Looks like Butler had a good time," I say, making Garrus look up in surprise, then roll his beady eyes. "What's up with him?"

"We saw an old friend of his at the spaceport," the turian replies, as I take the last few steps and move closer to him while the rest of the squad starts putting their gear away.

"They obviously get along really well, then," I say sarcastically. "Did it fuck up the mission?"

"No, it just meant we all had to make sure he didn't get himself killed trying to get to this guy," Garrus sighs. "Says he was called Ripard Davies." Ripard? The fuck kind of name is that? "The two of them have a past."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"That's all he would say," Garrus replies, hint of a growl in his voice at my remark. "He mentioned Ripard when he first came on the squad, said he wanted to find him, but that's all I know. I'll give him some time to calm down, then we'll see what this is really about." He breathes in deeply, obviously settling his own temper before looking back at me. "Did you find anything at the crime scene?"

"I've got a few things to look into, nothing concrete," I say vaguely.

"Did you run into any Blue Suns?"

I feel myself looking away as I answer. "Yeah, you could say that. It's taken care of, though, I didn't have any bother."

"Good," Garrus nods. "I kind of miss the old cases. At least the bad guys didn't have entire merc companies out to kill us." He chuckles dryly, mostly to himself. "Keep me updated on it, anyway. I might be able to help."

"Will do," I lie. Garrus walks off to deal with the rest of the squad, leaving me standing by myself, feeling like a right asshole. Garrus and I…we don't have secrets. We don't lie to each other. The only big lie I ever held was my origins, but now that's gone, we agreed to be completely open with each other. Except I'm hiding the fact the squad's gonna be betrayed, and that I'm now working with a Blue Suns mercenary. If he found out, he'd probably tear my head off and use it to beat Evan to death…with is pretty much why I can't tell him. There's a certain irony in the fact I know him too well to tell him the truth, even though I hate doing it.

I look around, noticing the lock on the comm. room changed from red to green. Ah, I should go and check on Butler, see what's going on with him-

A small trill from my omni-tool makes me pause and lift up my wrist to check it. New mail from Evan…

_I've got an idea. _

Yay!

_But not enough to take the Ardat-Yakshi off the table. _

Aww…

_You remember how there was virtually no forensic evidence? _

Yeah…

_Well, I've been thinking. Either our killer cleaned up __**really **__well after themselves, and I mean one hell of a cleaning job, or they were wearing something that doesn't let any forensic evidence out. Like an exo-suit._

Ah, smart…

_Volus or quarian. And considering the most vicious thing a volus can do is run into your ankles, I reckon the quarian idea might be the best one to run with. I've got a guy I can ask about this stuff, Golo'Mekk…something something, I can't fucking remember those quarian names._

Wait, wait…Golo. Why does that sound familiar? A quarian informant on Omega called Golo…is the guy in Mass Effect: Ascension. Holy shit. I thought he only worked for Cerberus, but I imagine a guy like him will just take money where he can get it. Plus, at least as far as I'm aware, the big attack on the Flotilla during Ascension hasn't happened yet, so that explains why he's here. Quarian community is quite tight-knit on Omega too, even if the vast majority are all exiles. Generally speaking, quarians are nice, but the exiles…they're the murderers, rapists, psychos. Which the quarians just dump on other planets, which is awfully helpful of them.

_Anyway, I'm going to see what I can get from him. Golo's a right prick, though, so he might not play ball. If he does, I'll let you know what he says. As for tomorrow…you know more about Ardat-Yakshi than I do, so you suggest when and where we meet up to do this. I'll bring the garlic, crucifix and stake. _I roll my eyes at that. _Later._

"And what might this be?" a familiar flanging voice asks, making me jump about a metre high as I rapidly close the message window and turn to look at Melanis.

"Nothing," I say, way too quickly. Asides from Garrus, and maybe Grundan, Melanis is the last person I need finding out about Evan…

The female turian gives me a curious look. Oh fuck, she saw, she saw… "Please don't tell me you were looking at that Fornax subscription Garrus got you."

I breathe out the breath I was holding in. It's not great, but at least it could've been worse. "Well, you know I can't resist the krogan section." Melanis' eyes widen in horror. "I'm joking."

She gives me a relieved look. "Thank the spirits. You were about to lose any respect you've managed to gain."

"Not a massive loss, then."

The turian's mandibles widen in a grin. "Not so much. So, what _were _you looking at?"

"I…uh…" I shrug, frantically trying to think of an excuse. Unfortunately, now my mind's just stuck on krogan porn. "Can we just forget about it?"

Mel's expression changes back to shock. "Sprits, it was actually Fornax, wasn't it?" Well, the excuse is right in front of me…

"It wasn't krogan."

"That only helps so much."

"I was just checking to see how to cancel the subscription," I say, feeling like I'm digging myself a massive hole. "It's still not working. Honest."

"Fine," Melanis says, giving me a hugely sceptical look. "I'll believe you…for now." There's a brief pause, then she seems to think of something. "So, how's the hunt for your serial killer?"

Fuck, I wish people would stop asking that… "About as good as you can expect after my first look at the crime scene. Couple of leads, nothing concrete, I'm looking into it."

"And here I thought the great Detective Shaw would have the case solved already," Melanis says sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm working on it," I reply, bristling. "This ain't fucking Cluedo." I pause briefly. "You don't know what Cluedo is, do you?"

"Not at all."

"It's on a par with I-Spy, that's all you need to know."

"Then I'm glad I've never heard of it," she chuckles. "So, what kind of leads do you have?"

Ah…may as well tell her a bit, sate curiosity. "Toxins are looking likely for the eye effect, but I can't be certain," I sigh. "Can't really be certain about much, actually. There's fuck all evidence."

Mel's voice turns somewhat tentative as she replies. "Maybe I could…help. Two minds are better than one, and all that."

"Are you serious?" I ask. Come on, she's gotta be trolling. Melanis is never this nice out of the blue. "Or is this some kind of sick joke you're playing?"

"Of course I'm serious," she says calmly. "If this case is giving you trouble, I'm here to help."

"I…" Wow. She's genuinely being sincere. "Thanks. I'll let you know if I need anything." I can't help a small smile slipping onto my face. "I appreciate it."

"No problem. I know it can be hell trying to work alone."

"I thought working with me _was _your version of hell?"

Melanis chuckles at that. "Only one of many." The two of us stand in silence for a couple of seconds, smiling, kind of unsure what to say.

"Well, I'm gonna go check in on Butler, so…"

"And I'm going to go see Garrus for a debrief, so…"

"Right. See you around."

"Good luck with your case."

I shake my head as I walk off towards the comm. room. She's being oddly friendly recently. I mean, sure, she still takes the piss out of me on a regular basis and all that, but the genuine hatred I used to feel seems to be getting gradually replace. It's quite nice, actually.

Butler's just sitting, staring down at the floor as the door slides open and I walk in, causing him to tilt his head slightly towards the intrusion.

"You alright, big man?" I ask, taking a seat next to Butler as he looks up at me next to the video console, trying to give me a small smile as he does so. It doesn't really work.

"Aye, I'm fine," he replies. "Just calling back home. I couldnae let Nalah not know about me seeing Ripard again."

"Nalah's your wife?"

"Nah, she's my hamster," Butler says, chuckling. "Course she's my wife, you daft bastard."

I laugh too, happy to see he's obviously not in too much of a bad way. Talking to his wife probably helped. "She's doing okay?"

"Not bad," he nods. "We miss each other. She's talking about moving to Omega, so we wouldn't have to."

"That's not a bad idea," I say. Would've been nice if Tali had done that for me…but hey, I'm over it.

"It isn't?" Butler asks. "Come on, Shaw, really? We've both lived here long enough to know Omega's shite."

"I'm pretty sure she knows that too," I reply. "But she still wants to be here with you. Hell, there's room enough in the base. I'm sure someone with a room will switch to a bunk so the two of you can have it."

"I told her I'd think about it," he shrugs. "I'm no' even considering it until Ripard's out of the way, though."

I fold one leg over the other, settling back. This is probably gonna be a bit of a story, so I may as well get comfortable. "Why? Who's Ripard?" Butler looks at me for a couple of seconds, then sighs. "If you don't want to tell me…"

"Now I know where he is, I ought to be open with everyone," he says. "You've been a good friend to me, Shaw, may as well be you first. You remember what I said about a lot of crap happening between me and the Blue Suns?" I nod. "Well, Ripard's the wee bawbag who made it happen. He was in charge of my squad when I was with the mercs. Useless prick. He couldnae have led a primary school cake stall if he'd tried."

I frown at him. Something there doesn't quite add up. "Wait, Ripard was your boss in the Blue Suns? How'd you see him at an Eclipse smuggling operation?"

"Bastard obviously switched sides to whoever was paying him more," Butler mutters. "I don't care who he works for, anyway. Doesn't change the fact he's mine." There's a genuine hatred in his voice when he says that. I don't think I've ever seen Butler this pissed, actually. The normally good-natured Scot has his hands balled into fists, his whole body tensed as he glares down at the floor. We stay like that for a few seconds, before he breathes out, loosening off and looking back at me apologetically. "Sorry. Just…it runs deep between us."

"I can see that," I say, still surprised at his outburst there. The worst part is, he looks so old after it. He's only in his thirties, but those stress lines shouldn't be setting in until at least ten years from now. "What'd he do to piss you off?"

"This goes a bit beyond just pissing me off," Butler replies, chuckling, though he obviously doesn't find this funny. "Ripard and I had professional disagreements when I was working for him. I joined the merc groups for the legitimate money, but Ripard was all about ripping off everyone we could. He knew I didnae like it, but then he wanted to try stealing from one of our biggest contractors. They're a pharmaceutical company, big factory line on Omega, but they hire mercs in for private security. Our group got the deal, but Ripard reckoned we could look for any research inside we could sell to other companies."

"You bailed out, right?"

"Aye, course I did. Told him I didnae want a part in his stupid fucking scheme and left. They caught him trying it on the job, of course. They didn't kick him out, but he got a demotion. Absolutely fucking convinced I'd sold him out. This was about when I went back to Glasgow, met Nalah, started to settle down. Everything's all good for eighteen years. Until my son, Scott, wants to run off and follow in his dad's footsteps as a merc. Nalah and I didnae give permission. Course, that didn't stop him hopping a shuttle once he'd left home."

I'm unconsciously leaning forward now, listening to the story. "Scott became a merc then?"

"Aye. Eclipse," Butler nods. "This was a year or so back. Nalah and I knew he'd gone…then one day, we get mail from an Eclipse address." He looks down, gulping a tiny bit. "Scott was KIA. Killed in a crossfire between rival groups. Course, when I got the bottom of the mail, I saw who'd written it."

"Ripard Davies."

"Fucker led my son into that crossfire and left him to die," Butler growls. "I never expected Ripard to get back into merc work. But a lot changes in eighteen years. He knew Scott was my son, so he let him die to get back at me. Then he sent that mail to let me know, to get back at me for something I didnae even DO!" Butler yells the last word, pounding a hand into the wall in anger. He breathes in deeply for a few seconds, then starts talking again, voice shaking but calm. "He wanted me here. He's been waiting for me. His fucking mistake. I'm no' letting him get away."

"None of us are," I say firmly. "Not after he did that to you. I mean…shit, Butler, I'm so sorry you had to go through that-"

"I dinnae want sympathy," he says calmly. "I just want Ripard dead. I haven't seen him for the year I've been here, but now he shows up, working as Jaroth's lieutenant on this. The wee bastard's finally broken cover, and it's payback time."

Well then. Fuck. As vendetta's go…it doesn't really get much more personal for this. And for good reason. This Ripard asshole killed his son. "Whatever I can do to help, let me know, alright?"

"Aye, I will," he nods, clapping a large hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, Shaw. I'll ask Grundan to scan the mercenary files we have for him. And I want someone I trust helping me with this. Once we find him, you're coming with me." Ah, that'll fuck up stuff with Evan…but this is more important. Than a serial killer. I think.

"I'll be there," I say. "You can count on me." Butler gives me a curt nod as I rise to my feet, heading through the door and sighing as I move back up the steps towards the dorm.

So. Let me run through the checklist. I've got a serial killer to find, Ardat-Yakshi to get seduced by, Blue Suns ally to keep hidden, personal vendetta to pursue, and potential crossover with Ascension events.

Well, so much for free time this week.

**A/N: Another squad member's past revealed! And yes, in case you haven't guessed, Ripard is a bit of a bad guy. Multiple cases FTW.**

**So, next up, Ardat-Yakshi time…and more of the hunt for Ripard. It's more of an either/or situation as to which one comes first. I'm leaning towards Ardat-Yakshi, so that'll probably be it. **

**Anyhoo, thanks for reading and reviewing, and I'll see y'all next chapter!**


	36. Ian vs The Ardat Yakshi

Chapter 36

Travis: Eyes Wide Open

**A/N: Yes, there's going to be similarities to Samara's loyalty mission here. But, think of it this way; you're essentially getting the mission early. Come MtM4, Samara's loyalty mission may change…**

**January 25th, 2185  
****9:12pm  
****Omega Market District – just outside of Afterlife's VIP lounge**

I was really hoping the lead wouldn't take us here.

Evan and I already staked out the industrial area to see if we could find an Ardat-Yakshi there, on the basis that one would want someone like Deadpool. I was almost certain it wasn't going to work from the get-go, but we both decided it was at least worth looking into the area where our people got killed. Two hours of hanging around in my armour waiting for an asari to hit on me kind of knocked that idea on the head. No asari at all. Not anyone at all, to be honest. Couple of lost-looking people, a few mercs I had to hide from, but other than that the place was dead.

So, unfortunately, that leads me to Afterlife's VIP area. Notorious hang-out of the one Ardat-Yakshi I do actually know of. If I'm lucky, there'll be no-one in there, and we can just drop this Ardat-Yakshi lead and look at the quarian. Of course, that plan relies on me being lucky, so it's obviously doomed to fail. Hell, knowing me, there'll probably be a fucking Ardat-Yakshi convention going on when I walk in.

Besides, Morinth should be getting chased by Samara, right? She won't be at Omega until later. Unless she keeps pinballing back here from other places, since the pickings are guaranteed to be good…

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Evan asks from behind me, nudging me out of my thoughts as we both look towards the entrance into the VIP area. "I mean, this Ardat-Yakshi thing was your idea. So it's a bit shit if you're the one to bail out."

"Hey, I'm the one putting myself in the danger zone here, not you," I reply. "These things are capable of controlling whole settlements, you know?" I think back to the parts of Morinth's history I can remember. "I heard one had an entire village in thrall to her. Made them sacrifice people." And that could be the opponent I'm facing…fuck, my empathy for Shepard during Samara's loyalty mission is increasing massively because of this.

"Damn," Evan whistles. "Well, thank Christ you're doing this rather than me."

"Thanks for the support."

"Welcome."

I wring my hands together nervously, looking towards to the door. The most sketchy thing about this so far is the fact Evan's seen my face. That was a huge leap of trust, but I can't face this on my own, so I need someone on my back. He's not taken any pictures, and as soon as this is over, I'm making sure he never has the opportunity to see what I look like again…but I get the horrible feeling it might come around to bite me in the ass. I just have to trust him, I guess.

Trust the Blue Suns merc. What the fuck am I doing…

"I have a meeting with Golo later, so, you know, if we went to get this show on the road…" Evan says impatiently. "You said you know the password to get us in there?"

Alright. Here goes nothing. Hell, now it's going to feel like an anti-climax if I don't get attacked in there. "Yeah, I have my ways," I nod, striding forward in my usual casual gear. Jeans and t-shirt makes me stand out from the crowd…which is exactly what I know Morinth likes. Hopefully any other Ardat-Yakshi won't be too different. They're such hipsters, now that I think about it…

"I think you're lost," the turian guarding the door says, as Evan and I approach him. "Afterlife's entrance is down there." He points back through the market stalls, bustling with people, angry hagglers and the smell of hundreds of different alien meals being cooked at the same time. Would've turned my stomach first time here, but you get used to the whole Omega smell quite quick. A lot of cultures being crammed into one tiny place helps with that.

"Really?" I say, folding my arms. "Cos someone told me this was the best place on Omega to have a good time."

"Sounds smart," the turian nods. "Who was it?"

Alright, what's the name… "Jarrud," I say, confidently.

The turian gives me a brief nod. Ah, well remembered! "Go on in," he says. "Just so you know; you start a fight, we'll hurt you. If someone starts a fight with you, feel free to defend yourself."

Evan glances around, making a point of looking at the lone turian. "Who's 'we'?"

"Come on," I say, yanking him on the shoulder before the bouncer can reply, and walking into the small area just before the real entrance into the club. I can already hear the usual music…pounding bass, bit of synth, lack of anything forming a real song. Ah, the future. "I realise your ego needs to be satisfied, but can you try and keep a low profile? We want the Ardat-Yakshi after me, not you."

"Nothing I can do if she can't resist my charm and sophistication," Evan shrugs, chuckling at the look I give him. "Fine. I'll watch from a distance."

"Good," I nod, breathing in deeply as I look at the door. Here we go… "Alright. I'll go in, try and draw attention to myself. You follow me in after five minutes. If I don't pick up an asari within an hour, then we leave and rethink this. We might be barking up the complete wrong tree."

"Got it," Evan replies. "Go on then, stud. Dazzle them. And remember to be professional. We're here for you to work it out if there's a murderer in there, not for you to try and score." I roll my eyes at him, pressing the door panel and letting the red light and pulsing music hit me as I step into the VIP area. It's a gigantic circular room, raised up high over the main floor of Afterlife, with a balcony overlooking the main area of the club below. There's a ridiculously well stocked bar on the far left of me, and a dancing area suspended in the middle of the club, with raised walls in an L-shape for patrons to 'get on down' inside. Dancing…I think I'll pass.

I look around the room quickly, trying to get my bearings on what I can do to attract attention to myself. It sucks that when Shepard walks in, everyone and their mum is having a domestic in here, while from what I'm seeing everyone's just having a perfectly innocent good time. Balls.

I slowly wander over towards the bar, eyeing up the patrons sitting there. No asari, but there's a couple of humans on the side looking over the dancefloor, and a lonely krogan facing the bar, sipping on a bottle of some manner of strong alcohol. I slip onto a stool two places away from him. May as well use this to plan out my course of action…

"What can I get you?" the bartender, a short, slightly fat, stubby human, asks.

"Cranberry juice, please, if you've got it," I reply, not looking up in order to maintain the illusion of being aloof and mysterious. No idea how well it's working, so I may as well try.

"Certainly," the bartender nods, as I hear the krogan chuckling as I slowly turn my head to see him looking at me. Well, so much for planning…

"Problem?" I ask, swivelling fully on the stool to face him. The krogan does the same, rising to his full height as he looks down at me. Oh, _fuck_, he's a big one. If I back down, no way I'll appear interesting. Then again, I'm not going to be too interesting if my face has been punched through the back of my head.

"Cranberry juice," he grunts. "Meow."

Uh…what? "Meow?"

"That's the human thing, isn't it?" he says. "You know. Pussy."

I lean back mockingly, nodding for him. "Ahh, you were insulting me. Very good. I mean, you're obviously so much better than me, killing your brain cells with that shit." I point to the bottle. "Not that there's a huge amount of them left to kill, I imagine."

"You want to say that to my face?" the krogan asks loudly, and I notice a few eyes falling on us as he rises to his feet, hands balling into fists. I need a plan…I look around the bar frantically as I stand up too, and notice a knife used for cutting fruit just over the lip of the bar. I don't want to kill him, but I have an idea…

"Isn't that what I was doing?" I ask sarcastically. "What, you insulted someone and didn't expect them to push back?"

"When I say something to a human, that's the end of it," he growls, stepping closer. Wow, my head's only just higher then his chest. Big guy… "Apologise."

"After you."

The krogan grunts at me, then his closed fist flies around in a punch. A punch that I was expecting. I snatch up the knife and duck as it comes at me, then come up before he can react, grabbing the top of his head with one hand as I ram the knife under his plate with the other. In an instant, the krogan's on his knees, making a bizarre wailing noise as I hinge the blade, applying more pressure to the plate. "I said, after you," I repeat.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, groaning even louder as I push the knife further in. "I'm sorry!"

I yank it out suddenly, shoving the krogan away and looking to the door. "Take a walk, buddy," I say, my voice as quiet and dangerous as I can make it. The krogan staggers away immediately, practically running out the door as I look around…and notice the whole club's gone silent, with everyone staring at me with a mixture of shock and amazement. Okay. Now, I have to calm the situation.

"Drinks are on me!" I yell, reaching onto the bar and pulling up the krogan's credit chit. There's a resounding cheer from around the place, and conversation resumes again as I hand the chit to the bartender and walk off around the balcony again. I think that's about as creative as I can be in here…and still no sign of an Ardat-Yakshi coming for me. Shit. I guess I'll give it another fifty minutes or so, see if any opportunities come up-

"Hello," a soft, silky, and all too familiar voice says behind me, and I turn to see…

Morinth.

It takes most of my self control not to scream at the sight. I suppose this helps, since I know how to push her buttons, try and get information…but I know just how dangerous she is. She's dressed to impress, though. Instead of the stupid suit she wears in ME2, instead she's opted for a skintight number, but one that's ridiculously open around the chest area, somehow managing to show even more cleavage than Samara's armour. It doesn't look good.

"Hello," I smile, trying not to freak out too bad as the Ardat-Yakshi takes a seat opposite me. I really don't get why people actually go for her…though maybe that's just me. "And you are..."

The asari's voice is almost wistful as she talks, quiet and subtle, flowing over to me. "I'm Morinth. And yourself?"

"Charles Carmichael," I reply, looking around. If I make her work for her kill, she might be a bit more open with telling me things. To keep me 'ensnared', as it were. "I was looking to drink alone tonight, though, so..."

"Oh, but Charles, someone as...interesting...as yourself should never have to drink alone," she says, her voice smooth as she smiles at me. "Please, won't you join me?"

I look back at her, then return the smile before taking my seat again. "Alright. You have a point, Morinth."

"So Mr Carmichael..." she pauses again, grinning in satisfaction. "What's a man like you doing here with this rabble? One would think you would have better things to do."

I look at her coyly. "And what exactly is a man like me? We only just met."

"And does that really matter, Charles? Right away, I could see a...spark in you." She leans forward, locking eyes with me. "You've seen and done things that the other peons here can't even imagine."

I nod my head, trying to appear impressed rather than totally creeped out. It's fucked up how she can actually tell this shit… "Yeah, I have. Still, even people like me need to chill somewhere."

Morinth leans back. "And what does someone like you do to relax? Read? Listen to music? Admire art?"

"A bit of all three," I shrug, trying to remember what it is that gets her going. "Old human literature is always good, and there's this asari band I got into really recently, Expel something..."

The asari's eyes light up, and she looks excited. "You mean Expel 10? They're absolutely sublime. The driving bass line, the exotic melody. You can almost get lost in it. Especially with some help."

"I've closed my eyes and just sat there listening before, but getting lost?" I lean in closer to her. "That sounds intriguing."

Morinth gets a distant look in her eyes as she replies. "Close your eyes, let the music wash through you-become you. Free your soul on the endless expanse of the music, leading you to wonder after wonder." She suddenly refocuses on me. "You should try it. It's enlightening."

"I'll…bear it in mind," I say, smiling. "Sounds like asari might be better at it than humans are, though."

"Oh, humans can feel the same thing...with a little help." Once again, she returns my smile with one of her own, forcing eye contact onto me again. She does certainly know how to get people interested…but I can entice her more by making myself a mystery.

"I'll have to track help down sometime, then," I say non-chalantly. "I find music helps when you're just watching life rush past, you know? I've never seen much point in art, when life itself is the greatest form of it."

"What a wonderful thought," she nods. "Life itself being the ultimate art. And why not? Art is meant to invoke a response in the viewer. What better to provoke response than another life? I must say, the piece in front of me is quite intriguing."

"Well, people say art tells different people a different story." I raise an eyebrow at her. "What does the piece in front of you say?"

Morinth gives me a coy smile. "I'm not quite sure. This is an elusive piece. I think it requires more...in depth study."

"You know anybody who does good art inspections?" I ask, my voice teasing. I'm playing a dangerous game here…and I really need to try and focus on the investigation. Samara be damned, if I get a chance to kill her, I'm taking it…but I need to know whether she's the killer we're looking for first.

"I like to think I'm quite the connoisseur," she says. "Maybe we should head to my place where I can study this amazing piece without any distractions."

I give a genuine smile, despite my better judgement. Why did I do that? She's talking about taking me back to the murder lair! "That'd certainly be interesting." I need to try and narrow down if she did it or not… "Though perhaps we could pass through the industrial district on the way there? Some of the finest example of life's art are found there, I find. You ever visited?"

"I can't say I have," she replies, looking and sounding honest. Well, that's not exactly damning…but considering her 'occupation', being a good liar probably helps quite a lot. Can't take her word for it. Fuck, I'm gonna have to check her apartment…

"Then on second thoughts, maybe your place would be best," I say, holding back a sigh. Well, this is gonna be great. Evan better not screw me over… "All the noise in here is beginning to annoy me."

"Don't worry," Morinth says. "My place is nice and quiet. We'll have plenty of time to admire the art of life."

I smile, rising from the table. "Lead on then, Morinth."

"My pleasure, Charles."

Creepy…

##############

It doesn't take more than ten minutes to get to Morinth's apartment, located in a flashy, high-rise apartment complex in one of the buildings flanking Afterlife. Lobby was all white plastic, holographic displays, plush chairs dotted about for no apparent reason…place may as well have been raining money, considering the impression it gave. A short, awkward elevator ride up to the forty-seventh floor with Morinth was thankfully quick, even if a little weird with her smiling at me the whole time. The lighting in there does make her look a lot nicer, though…as do the ones in her apartment, as we walk in and she immediately heads to the bar. Alright, Ian, play it smooth, find out what you can, then either kill her when she's not looking or get the fuck out of here…

"Can I get you anything, Mr...Carmen, was it?" Morinth suddenly asks, pouring a drink as I look up at her.

"Carmichael." I try my best to sound a little insulted, but my tone's still teasing. "You forgot my name already, Morinth?"

The asari walks over with two drinks, sitting on the couch next to me just as I drop down onto it. "I'm sorry, I tend to forget fake names." She takes a calm sip of her drink, not breaking eye contact with me. "You don't have to lie to me. You can trust me." Well, balls. Maybe she's just running a bluff…but if she's not, I can't afford to make her suspicious by lying again. And a suspicious Morinth would make this situation ten times more dangerous, so…

I chuckle, trying to hide my nerves as I give in. "So much for the piece of art being elusive. Ian Shaw. That's my real name. Sorry I didn't say, just...I'm not used to this whole meeting random strangers thing."

Morinth gives another satisfied smile, sipping again. "Well, then why don't we get to know each other better? Then I won't be such a stranger."

"Sure," I nod, getting up and beginning to look around the apartment for evidence, poking around at the various statuettes and decorations lying about. I don't exactly know what I'm even looking for here…fuck, coming to this apartment was a bad idea. And the more I think about it, why would Morinth ever be in the industrial area? She's all about the high-class, interesting targets… "Maybe the stuff here will let me get a better idea of you, hmm?"

"Why don't you come sit down, Ian?" Morinth asks, making me turn to look at her. "We can-" The drink in her hand suddenly slips from her fingers, hitting the ground. "Oops, silly me." Before I can look away, she's bending down to pick it up, showing a certain generous cleavage in my direction as she does so. "My mistake."

I can't help but stare as she does that. Normally I don't like asari at all, but…now that I'm seeing more of her for real, I'm beginning to understand how people can fall for her. She can be damn sexy when she wants to be…I shake my head, trying to snap out of it as I look up to meet her eyes. "Don't worry about it. We all make mistakes." I move back to the couch, blinking rapidly as I sit down next to her. I need to find some way out…

"So do I feel like such a stranger, now?" Morinth asks, scooting closer to me as I sit down. I immediately pull away, running on sheer instinct, then inwardly cursing to myself as I see the surprised expression on her face. Fuck, I can't make her suspicious! Shit shit shit…

"Sorry," I say quickly, doing my best to sound apologetic as my voice wavers in panic. "I'm just happy talking for a bit right now, you know?"

"Oh, of course." Morinth stands up. I might be able to make my escape if she turns around… "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

Shit. After raising suspicion, I can't exactly turn this down. "Actually, I'll have whatever you're having."

"I'm sure you'll love it," Morinth grins, walking off, and swaying her hips seductively as I look at her. God, I need to get out of here, or find some way of taking her down…but she's always looking, or distracting me with something else…

Within seconds, she's made another drink and is walking back towards me, before I even realise the time's passed as I stare at her. Come on, I need to think!

"Thanks," I say as she hands it over, pretending to take a sip, but still feeling the taste as my lips press against the rim of the cup. "So, you heard about those murders?"

"Such an awful waste of life," she nods. Again, sounding genuine. "And destruction of such wonderful art. If only I could have seen it before it got destroyed."

"Yet the fact life would do such a thing is exciting, no?" I smile. She does have interesting conversation, and there's no way out just yet, so I may as well enjoy this. "Reminds us of the dangers we face every day."

Morinth returns the smile, moving a tiny bit closer. "Every time I think I've analyzed this piece, it changes on me. Fascinating. You sound like someone who's well acquainted with danger, Ian."

For some reason, the taste of the cup is still hanging on my tongue, and I'm feeling awfully relaxed around Morinth. She won't hurt me until later, right? And I don't usually get to spend some time with someone as smart and pretty as she is, so I can chill a bit… "Sure, I've seen my fair share. More than my fair share, actually."

"It's exhilarating, isn't it? Knowing that you could die anytime just gives life more meaning."

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy," I sigh, feeling even more relaxed as I place an arm on the top of the couch. "At least it's relaxed in here."

Morinth scoots closer again, pressing up against my body underneath my arm, and this time I don't recoil. Can't make her suspicious…and she looks amazing up close, so amazing… "I always feel so safe here. All my friends do, too."

"I guess that makes me a friend, then?"

The asari reaches up, gently tracing her fingers down the arm resting on the sofa as she grins. "Oh, you certainly are. But I wonder...do you want more?"

"That depends whether that's an offer, or a question," I say, smiling. I wonder if she actually wants me…maybe not to kill me, just for fun…

Morinth's other hand strays onto my thigh, making me smile even wider at her touch. "That depends. What do you want it to be?"

"You seem smart, Morinth." I gently place my hand on top of hers. I won't let this go too far, but she's proven me so wrong so far. At first I thought she was ugly, but now I see…she's absolutely gorgeous. Just one kiss, and then I can leave… "Take a guess."

Morinth shuffles even closer, raising herself up to sit in my lap as she leans in, voice whispering through my ear, sounding like it's echoing in my head. "Are you sure you're ready for me, Ian?"

I feel the whispering on my skin, the warmth of her body, how close she is…and whatever stupidity inside me is holding me back, it breaks. I turn my head and lock lips with her, pressing my tongue into hers as Morinth kisses back with fervour, caressing my arms and neck. She's not evil…and I just want to be with her now, know what she's really like before I decide to kill her…

Morinth suddenly looks up, her eyes locking with mine…and they're pure black. I weakly try to look away, but everything starts going out of focus, and I'm filled with this horrible feeling that if I do look away, my life will just collapse around me, close in on me, and the only thing tethering me here are her eyes…even with everything unfocused, I can still feel her voice, her warmth, even her strength as Morinth gently strokes my face. I just want to make her happy…

Even through the foggy vision, all I can see is her eyes, slowly drawing me into them, and I'm than willing to let her pull me. "Tell me you'd do anything for me." I don't hear her voice in my ears, instead it reverberates around in my head, as I nod dumbly.

"I'd do anything for you," I whisper, feeling my heartbeat quicken.

"Tell me you'd kill for me."

"I'd kill for you."

The voice is barely audible now. "Tell me you'd die for me."

"I'd die for you." I can slowly feel a numbness spreading through my limbs as Morinth chuckles, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me in again with a pleased sigh.

"You're all mine, Shaw," she says, as I nod again, vision filled by the blackness of her eyes, mind consumed with the feeling of her. Then, unbidden, a tiny spark comes forward. I really shouldn't be cheating on Tali like this…

"Forget the girl," Morinth's voice whispers seductively. "She means nothing to you, not any more."

"She's nothing," I say back, nodding firmly. Tali left me at the spaceport, goes on missions without even saying goodbye, talks to Kal'Reegar more than she talks to me, barely ever wants to video call…the Flotilla's replaced me.

"Let me replace her," the voice echoes again, as I feel a presence touch my mind, even stronger now. The feeling in my limbs is slowly dying, as is my will to keep thinking, to try and hold onto my thoughts. So much easier to let go, meld with Morinth, experience real bliss…

BANG.

The sudden shift almost makes me throw up. One second, my mind is filled with thoughts of Morinth, our eyes locked together as she holds me…and the next, all contact is gone, and reality comes flooding back as Morinth backs away from me, standing up and flaring blue at the intruder who's come through the door while I fall back helplessly, still trying to gather my wits.

"I think you've had your fun, you kinky bitch," I hear Evan growl, which is followed up by a yell of shock as Morinth biotically pounds him into a wall.

"I'll have you both!" I hear the asari scream, as Evan narrowly avoids another blast, hitting the floor as the mass effect field explodes around him and I feel strength returning to my limbs again. Morinth's right in front of me…and the full-wall windows looking out over Omega are right behind her.

I don't really think about what I'm doing. I stagger up to my feet as she readies herself to attack Evan once again, stumble a few running steps and jump into her as hard as I can. Even with her powers, Morinth weighs significantly less than me.

The Ardat-Yakshi practically goes flying, colliding with the window and turning to face me with a snarl…as I yell, lifting up a foot and kicking her as hard as I can in the stomach just as a biotic throw carries me off my feet and onto the wall. I hear the smashing of glass as my back impacts with a thud, but I look up just in time to see Morinth's eyes widen as she topples back out of the window.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Evan yells, looking at me as I struggle back up again. He runs over to the window, looking down and aiming his gun, before pulling it up while shaking his head. "She's using biotics to cushion her fall! That's some anime shit!"

"She's gone now," I gasp, picking myself up and staggering over to the sofa just before I collapse, my head spinning as I cover my face with my hands. Morinth actually had me there. I was prepared to die, and I would've done it with a big fucking grin on my face for her. Holy shit…

"You alright?" Evan asks, as I peek through my fingers to see him giving me a concerned look. "So much for being a professional. She was practically in your pants when I walked in." He glances over to the smashed window again, then smiles apologetically. "Pretty big cockblock, huh?"

"Something like that," I mutter, slapping both my cheeks to try and liven myself up. "Fuck, she totally got inside my head…"

"Yeah, _sure _she did," Evan chuckles. "I knew two guys who had an asari stripper. Contracted venereal disease. They used 'got into my head' excuse too, which didn't do them too great when their dicks were practically falling-"

"Can you just…I don't know, not be yourself for a few seconds?" I say, raising a hand to stop him mid-sentence and righting myself on the sofa again. How could I have been that fucking stupid? Even with game knowledge, she's powerful enough to do that to me…Ardat-Yakshi are far, far too dangerous. "And I'm serious. I told you, Ardat-Yakshi can do that to people. She was absorbing me when you burst in. Speaking of which, what the fuck took you so long?"

"Getting through the security in this building and her door was a pain," he shrugs. "She obviously didn't want to be disturbed." He grins again. "You really fell for her, huh?"

"Don't remind me," I growl.

"She totally had you as her pet," he chuckles teasingly. "Deadpoodle sounds about right, given that-"

I grit my teeth. Problem with working with people who're technically your enemies means professional courtesy kind of goes out of the window… "Evan, I swear, I'm going to spark you out unless you shut up."

"Fine, fine," he says. "You're so sensitive."

"She almost killed me!"

"Did you find any evidence?" he asks, totally ignoring me as he starts to roam around the apartment.

Partly I wish it was Morinth, so we can write this case off, but… "Nothing. When I asked her about the industrial area, she said she never visited. Doesn't like places like that. Besides, she's hunting interesting people in Afterlife's VIP lounge, why the fuck would she suddenly hang around industrial bit of town to kill people there?"

"We can't take her word for anything," Evan points out, shaking his head as he checks around the apartment. "Even if that's a good point about her MO not really fitting our guys. What do you think?"

"Well, she's definitely a killer," I say. "But our killer? I'm not so sure." I gesture over to the window again. "Besides, even if she is, no way are we catching her now."

"Then I guess the meeting's still on with Golo," Evan sighs. "Great. I hate that little bastard." You and me both, Evan… "You want to come with, or are you still recovering from being mind-raped?"

"That's not quite how I'd phrase it," I reply. "But yeah. A bit of recovery, plus Archangel's gonna get suspicious if I'm away for this long."

Evan laughs, shaking his head. "Well, heaven forbid you keep the big man waiting. I'll keep you posted on everything with Golo."

"Cheers," I say, rising to my feet, feeling more steady now that Morinth's presence is out of my head. I can't believe I thought she was beautiful during that… "Right. Well, I'm gonna go and get as far away from this place as I can, so…"

"I'm going to a bit more digging here, just go on ahead," Evan nods. "See you around, Poodle."

"See you, dickhead," I mutter under my breath as I leave, and start pacing down the hallway to the elevator, still shaking my head. Unbelievable…and now I owe Evan my life. Oh _good._

As I step into the elevator, looking out its window as I descend to see a crowd of people beginning to gather around the shattered glass on the floor and look up towards it source, my omni-tool suddenly starts playing 'Auld Lang Syne', indicating a call from Butler.

"What's up?" I say, answering the call. A hundred credits says this is about Ripard…

"_It's about Ripard," _Butler replies. Holy shit, never saw that coming. _"Grundan's pulled up information, but I'm no' gonna act on it until you get back here. Where the fuck are you anyway?"_

"Tracking down the serial killer," I reply vaguely. "I'm on my way, alright?"

"_Just dinnae take too long," _Butler snaps, hanging up the line straight after. Well, whatever this is, it's probably serious. And'll obviously require my attention, right off the back of me being hypnotised and almost absorbed by a murderous asari.

I hate nights out in Omega.

**A/N: Before you ask, yes, that little meeting between Ian and Morinth might have an impact in the future...**

**Huge thanks to Kassandra Black and TheRev28 for this chapter, and helping me with Morinth's psyche and everything. I really appreciate it, you two.**

**Next up, more Ripard and Butler, more serial killer investigation, more Evan, more quarians, more explosions, more drama, more excitement, oh my! So stick with it for that.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, as usual! Bye for now!**


	37. Ian vs The Floor

Chapter 37

Blur: Song 2

"Thanks for coming along, Shaw," Butler says from the seat next to me in the cruiser, as Vortash flies us between lanes of traffic, the screams of engines passing us by thankfully drowning out the genuine screams I've got no doubt are happening in the streets below. There's a reason I don't usually like to walk anywhere on Omega.

"Anytime, Butler," I reply, looking over to the Scot, my helmet not covering my face just yet as I give him a smile. A very tired smile. As soon as I got back to the base, Butler was practically throwing me into the shuttle, telling me he'd explain everything on the way. I managed to glean from Garrus as I was getting my stuff together that Grundan uncovered a property for us to check out, and that we were keeping the mission numbers small to avoid detection, hence it just being Butler and I. I appreciate the gesture of him wanting me to come with him, since I'm apparently his best friend on the squad, but tonight of all nights…crawling into bed sounded kind of appealing.

Still, I can't exactly tell anyone what happened with Morinth, so I've got to do this to avoid suspicion. Even without that, Butler needs my help. I'm not going to turn him down, especially when this Ripard bloke sounds like such a cock.

Plus it'll take my mind off the disastrous serial killer investigation. I trust Evan, but like it or not, he's still a merc who knows my face, and Morinth now knows my face _and _name. Without getting us any closer to the killer. Worst case ever.

"So, run everything by me," I say, checking my pistol as I talk. Got my stealth armour for this one, even though Butler's still stuck with his normal gear. The weird thing is, I'm the only infiltration guy on this mission, meaning I'll have to take charge. Not good. I can cope well on my own, sure, some kind of survival instinct seems to keep me alive, but I dunno how well that applies to people with me. That's a good, positive attitude right there. "How'd we even find this place?"

"Grundan was doing digging most of the day," Butler explains. "Took him a wee bit to find Ripard's file, but he didnae have any bother getting into it. Eclipse keeps a record of his place of residence, and the place we're going to is that address."

"Please tell me it's a one bedroom bungalow," I say hopefully.

"He's an Eclipse lieutenant," Butler chuckles dryly. "In charge of one of their biggest operations. The place is practically a base in itself."

"Course it is," I sigh. "And the plan here is…"

"We get inside that house, we kill him, and we leave," Butler says bluntly. "Puts a big dent in Eclipse's eezo smuggling operation, might even make the thing collapse if we keep piling on the pressure." His expression hardens. "Plus it gives the wee bastard what he deserves."

I raise an eyebrow at the ex-merc. I can understand what he's feeling, after everything with Williams…which means I don't want him to make the same mistakes I did. "I'm not trying to sound insensitive…but you know killing Ripard isn't going to bring Scott back, right?" I ask cautiously.

"Aye, I know," Butler nods seriously. "Trust me, Shaw, I've had years to consider that. But he's trying to get back at me, and he willnae stop until one of us is dead. I plan on killing the fucker before he can do anything else. I lost Scott, but he's not getting near Nalah. He's not getting the chance. This isn't revenge." He pauses, as I give him a sceptical look before I can help myself. "Alright, it is a bit. But it's more necessity. As long as he lives, no-one I know is gonnae be safe."

"Alright," I nod. Well, sounds like he's skipped past all the rationalising that usually happens after the kill by just doing it in advance, which is pretty smart, now that I think about it. Guy's got his head screwed on right. Besides, it's not just about Butler, he's got his wife to protect from this psycho. "If I see Ripard in there, should I hold off until you can kill him?"

"Nah, Ripard's a slippery fucker," Butler replies firmly. "You see him, blow his head off before he gets any chance to get away. I'm no' bothered how he dies, I just need it done."

"Got it," I say, holstering my gun as the cruiser starts to slow down, descending over a small maze of alleyways. My omni-tool map shows the building's location as just over three hundred metres away, so I guess this is the closest we can safely get without being spotted. Considering Ripard's position in Eclipse, the place is almost guaranteed to be crawling with guards. Just like everywhere else we visit on Omega. Still, why break the status quo now, right? "Oh, you should probably show me a picture of Ripard, now that I think about it. So I'm not just shooting random guys on the off-chance I get him."

"Shit, good point," Butler says, opening up his omni-tool and quickly moving through some files until a picture pops up on his display, with a some stats next to it. I take a quick look at the image of the human male, scanning for important details. He looks in his forties, with some early wrinkles setting in, coupled with a few loose grey hairs on his military brown hair. He's got quite a thin, gaunt face, with cheekbones that look like they're pressing into his face marginally, and surprisingly large brown eyes above a generic looking nose and thin lips. Should be simple enough to identify him. "Think you can remember that?"

"He's got a distinctive look to him, yeah," I nod. "I'm more concerned about your memory holding up, old man."

"Very funny," Butler chuckles. "Age gives experience. Bairns like you used to have more respect for their elders in my day." I roll my eyes, grinning as Vortash lowers us down towards the ground in a secluded alleyway. Him calling me a bairn is just like Kaidan calling me 'kid'…I never really expected to miss the LT, but now that I think about it, I feel a tiny pang. He was basically a big brother to me on the Normandy. I wonder how he's doing…hell, he's probably got that promotion by now. Part of me is looking forward to seeing him on Horizon again, though the other part is definitely dreading it because of how he'll act. At least, how canon dictates he should act, so I suppose there's a possibility it's changed. Here's hoping.

The cruiser doors open up, letting Butler and I hope out as Vortash takes off as quickly as he touched down, heat from the thrusters pushing against the bottom of my legs as the two of us set off at a quick jog towards the house. Practically a base. Pfft. It can't be that big.

#########

Okay. It's practically a base.

Ripard's obviously rolling in the dough, since he's got himself a solid, rectangular building with a flat roof, probably about fifty metres wide and thirty deep, with a lovely cream finish on the exterior walls that seem awfully out of place for the kind of person who would kill someone's son to get back at them. There's a wall perimeter surrounding it, set up twenty metres from the house's walls, complete with security checkpoint with guard varren, floodlights, and three metre walls.

Fortunately, they didn't plan on people with grav clips. Security looking outside is pretty strong, but inside, they've not really bothered. We should be able to hack a window, get in, and take things from there.

"Right," I say, from our position in alleyway directly opposite to the east, unguarded, wall. "Remember what I told you about the grav clips. At least one limb needs to stay on at all time. Preferably your hand, cos if it's just the knee connector, you're going to be hanging upside down on the wall. And you'll look like a right twat."

"Nae bother," Butler nods, as the two of us run out silently, trying to stay low across the barren street that leads up to the wall. We both press our backs against it, painfully conscious of any pedestrians walking by as I slap both hands on the wall, then place my knees on it, before reaching up with my left hand and beginning the short climb. It only takes a few seconds to reach the top of the wall, and I look back to see Butler following right behind. Guy's a natural.

From there, it's a simple matter of hopping down, dashing across the courtyard, and climbing through a window that's already unlocked. I quickly activate the night vision on my helmet, glancing around the huge reception room as Butler presumably does same, due to the small whistle I hear in the radio. The left and right walls are flanked by cabinets holding armour sets, and a grand staircase leads up to a balcony upstairs, presumably breaking off into the upper rooms. There's a plush carpet underfoot, and the staircase banisters seem to be made of mahogany. Which in this day and age, doesn't come cheap at all. Hell, this replace kind of reminds me of something…

"Spencer estate, much?" I mutter, pulling my handgun and pointing it down with two hands.

"What?" Butler asks.

"Resident Evil," I reply. Radio silence ensues. "Look, if you see any zombies, or a giant snake, just tell me, yeah?"

"Are you always like this on the infiltration missions?" Butler asks. A look at the doors in here shows they're all locked…but the bedrooms are probably upstairs, and at this time of night, we should look up there first. I step forward, suddenly aware of just how much noise I can actually make. You don't even notice outside, with all the hustle and bustle of Omega, but in somewhere soundproofed and quiet, it feels…weird.

"Depends on my mood," I say, slowly moving up the stairs. They don't creak in 2185, due to the miracles of modern engineering, but I still don't feel like taking chances. "Trust me, if you knew what I was talking about, you'd be making that exact same comment."

"Nah, I actually exercise a wee bit of professionalism on missions," Butler chuckles. "I always find it so weird working with you. When I was with the mercs, we didnae ever talk about anything else on a mission. Kept with the military jargon. You just say all the random shite that pops into your head."

"I'm a cop, not a soldier," I shrug. "Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood."

"I'm no' saying it's a problem," Butler replies, as I take a guess and open the door on the right hand side of the upstairs balcony. It opens up into a darkened corridor, much narrower now, with random pictures of artwork hung over the carpet and striped wall design. A fruit bowl balanced on top of a krogan's head in one, then another depicting what I can only presume are early turians, due to the old-fashioned attire and lack of guns. Interesting taste… "It's just weird for me."

"You'll get used to it," I reply, smiling under the helmet as we push on. "It's nice having someone to lighten the tone, anyway."

"When we're being shot at?"

"_Especially _when we're being shot at," I say firmly. I hear Butler laughing quietly as the two of us stop in front of the only door in this corridor, with a holographic sign scrolling above the lock that says 'do not disturb'. Oh, great. Now it says that, I'm gonna feel really rude just busting in with Butler. "I'll hack this. Hold on." I crouch down, opening my omni-tool hack module as I briefly swivel my head to look at the Scot. "How'd Ripard get all this stuff? Hell, how'd he even get back into merc work after getting caught stealing?"

"Not got a clue," Butler replies. Ah, easy lock, good… "He was always a suck-up. Knew a lot of people in high places. He probably agreed to give up Blue Suns secrets so Eclipse would take him in. That fits him. Wee bastard would screw over anyone to get his way."

"Well, let's make sure he never gets the chance again," I say, stepping away from the door and pulling my pistol again as the lock turns green. "Ready?"

"I've been ready for years," Butler says, lifting his shotgun as my fingers hover over the door control. "Go." I press the button, and the two of us burst in, weapons raised…to another room with a door at the end of it. Well, that's a fucking anti-climax. This looks like an area to chill in outside the bedroom, due to the sofas, table and big screen on one side. Floor in this place is the usual hard plastic, now, with a tiled pattern covering the whole thing. Looking at Butler, the two of us step forward to the next door.

Out of nowhere, my vision suddenly explodes white, making me yell out and desperately struggle to turn off the night vision as Butler does the same next to me, both of us staggering from the sudden shock. My fingers finally find the proper button, leaving me with a pale double vision from being dazzled as I look around frantically, trying to work out what happened. All the room's lights are on, whitewashed walls making my headache while I brink rapidly, bringing everything at least slightly back into focus.

"Son of a bitch," I hiss, swivelling around to check on Butler, who seems to be regaining his composure too. "You alright, man?"

"Well, I was hoping to make it to forty without my eyesight being fucked, but there goes that idea," he replies, shaking his head rapidly. I look towards the bedroom door, with the intention of rushing forward to check if Ripard's in there…but the door lock is red. I turn to the one we came through…and it's red as well. "This doesnae look good, does it?"

"I'll see if I can hack us out," I say quickly, dropping to my knees next to the door we came through and checking my omni-tool. The display makes me do a double take. This is Serrice Council grade locking! A monkey could've hacked into here before, but now it's one of the most advanced security measures that you can't even buy on the normal market. The fuck?

"Any luck?" Butler asks.

"If you can grab me a supercomputer or teleport Grundan into here, then sure," I reply sarcastically, standing up and closing my omni-tool. "We're fucking stuck."

"Oh, here we go," Butler groans, pointing to the big screen that suddenly fires up, crystal clear image of, you guessed it, Ripard. I slowly draw my gun in case of any tricks, looking at the face of the man on the screen. He's staring intently, eyes scarily wide as his thin lips curl into a smile. "Alright, bawbag?" Butler shouts, activating the external speakers on his helmet, as I do the same.

"Ah, I knew you'd turn up, Sammy-boy," Ripard grins, his voice high-pitched with a faint French accent. His score on the punchability scale just went from an eight to a nine, methinks, cos that voice is fucking _annoying. _"Since I saw you at the spaceport, I thought it was only fair I host our little reunion. You are on my turf, after all. I'm sure Nalah would've done the same for me if I'd visited Glasgow." Sammy-boy? Well, that solves the question of Butler's first name…Sam Butler. I was hoping to find that out when our lives weren't in mortal danger, but whenever works, I guess.

"You fucking leave her out of this!" Butler snaps. "This is between you and me, Ripard. You killed Scott to get me here, so, here I am." He throws his arms wide. "Why don't you show yourself, and we can have a nice, long chat." The last words are dripping with menace.

"We're talking right now, aren't we?" Ripard replies smugly. Ugh, he's smug. He's not even one of the villains who has the common decency not to be a dick about it. "I see you brought along a friend too. Hello, Deadfool."

I look at the screen for a few seconds. "Wait, was that a play on words, or did you actually get that wrong?"

"Company is good, though," Ripard says, ignoring me entirely. "I would advise you to be careful around Butler, you know. He's quick to betray the people he works with."

"I didnae betray you!" Butler bellows. "You got caught trying to steal from them because you're a fucking idiot, Ripard, that's no' my fault!"

"They knew exactly where I'd be," Ripard shrugs. "Someone must've tipped them off. It's alright for you to lie, Sam, I understand. You don't want to hurt my feelings."

"I want to hurt a whole lot more than them!" Butler shoots back.

"Now, that stings, Sam," Ripard says, his voice mock-chiding. "I go to all the trouble of making sure you get here, getting the reception ready, and you still throw it back in my face?"

Wait, 'making sure you get here'? "Hold up," I say, raising a hand. "You _wanted _us here?"

"Oh, of course," he nods. "I knew he wouldn't be able to resist. I even lowered the encryption on my file for you." He pauses for a few seconds. "No need to say thanks. I wanted Sam here, so I can tell him all about what happened after he left me to rot on Omega, and what happens to people who betray their squad." He gives a genuine grin at that, which makes it all the more scary. "We have a lot of catching up to do. At least Scott was able to pass on the message effectively."

"You're dead," Butler growls lowly. "You're fucking insane, and I'm going to put you out of your misery."

"Oh, on the contrary, I'm not miserable," Ripard says, sounding surprised. "In a way, I suppose I should be thanking you. Getting caught for my actions let me make ties with some very similarly minded people. The ones who see the hidden profit in our work."

"Extorting the innocent," Butler scoffs. "Aye. I'm not surprised you call it 'hidden profit' instead."

"You always did let those petty morals tie you down, Sam," Ripard sighs. I'm still scanning for a way out…but I don't see shit. "But no. They got me back into mercenary work, made sure I was comfortable in Eclipse, as long as I did what they ask. But, we have mutual interests, I feel. No hardship on me. They simply want the real money that can be made on this rock, and I'm an instrument for that to happen."

"Wait, who are 'they'?" I ask, already beginning to feel an inkling form in my mind.

"People who have many fingers in many pies," Ripard says, trying to sound mysterious. "Enough contacts to get me into my position in Eclipse. That should show you the type of power here."

Finger in many pies. May as well say what I'm thinking… "Umbra?"

Ripard gives me a shocked look, but his expression returns neutral. "Ah, so you've heard of us." Us? Well, at least now I know Umbra's more than just one man…it's an group. With influence in the merc groups. Great. "But, we're not here to talk about me. This is our night to catch up, Sam."

"Fuck you," Butler hisses.

"Always the charmer," Ripard chuckles. "Now, as to you." He looks over at me. "I'm afraid there's no room in our little reunion for you. Sam didn't RSVP with his plus one."

"Hey, don't sweat it," I reply, pointing to the door. "I'll just wait outside."

Ripard's grin grows even wider. "I'm afraid not."

What happens next happens very, very quickly. One second, I'm standing on a large white tile of flooring. The next one, said tile has disappeared, and I'm sliding down a wide metal chute with a sudden yell of surprise, gun flying out of my hand. Floor traps? I roll over, desperately trying to scrabble for grip on the smooth surface as I look back…and double my efforts upon seeing what I'm sliding towards.

Laser emancipation grid. Pioneered for effective waste disposal on industrial sites, it'll atomise almost anything that comes into contact with it, including me. Who the fuck sets up a trap room like this? Every single floor panel would've dropped me in here, meaning I started halfway up the slide, but I'm not getting any fucking grip! I press the grav clips onto the surface, but they keep sliding off, and I feel my feet slide off the edge as I reach over my shoulder, grab my knife in my right hand and slam the blade down into the metal surface with a scream, feeling my legs fall back towards the laser grid.

The blade punctures the metal, digging in with a sudden jolt that travels the whole way up my arm as I hang there, dangling precariously above the most dangerous waste disposal unit ever made. I frantically slam my left hand down on the surface, and now that I've stopped sliding, the damned thing finally stick on. Gasping out a sigh of relief, I slowly holster the knife then attach my other hand, scrambling back onto the chute and out of the danger zone.

Oh, shit, I'm hyperventilating, fuck, fuck…I try and calm my breathing, unable to look at the laser grid as I slowly begin to calm. Two brushes with death is one night is way, WAY too many. I can't fucking believe Ripard…

It takes me a few nerve-wracking minutes to climb back up to the top of the chute and up the wall leading to the floor tiles. I try to listen through, but there's total silence. Either they've stopped talking, which means Butler could have been taken for their 'catch up'…or I just can't hear, and I'm gonna get myself killed this way.

Luck, don't fail me now.

Carefully keeping myself balanced on the wall with my knees and feet, just like Melanis taught me, I get my omni-tool and zap the floor tile above me with an Overload. The electrical short-circuit causes the thing to open up again, as I quickly clamber out, rolling onto mercifully hard ground gratefully. Room's empty, and the screen is off…plus both doors are now green locks again.

Fuck. He's taken Butler. Which means I need to mount a rescue mission here. I quickly dash to the door the two of us never went through…which opens up into an empty bedroom. Damn it! I turn around, heading to the way we came in and stepping back into the corridor, before backtracking quickly at the sound of whistling coming my way. Fuck, he probably sent a guard to make sure there's nothing wrong with the room! And I'm unarmed! I look around frantically for a place to hide…then remember the grav clips on me, and look up.

It takes thirty seconds to get myself poised on the roof, Spiderman style, as the lightly armoured guard walks in with an assault rifle on his back. Not ideal, but it'll have to do, as long as he doesn't check the roof…but he's too busy inspecting floor panels to do that. I wait for the sucker to come underneath me, then drop, twisting in mid-air to land on top of him and deliver a hard punch to the face before he can recover.

I quickly snatch the assault rifle off his back, checking for a thermal clip as I silently thank Laet for making the grav clips. If Butler and I get out of here, I'm definitely buying him whatever the fuck he wants.

Assuming I find Butler.

I roll my shoulders with the assault rifle, as I try to work out what happens next. I'm on enemy turf, armed with a gun I'm not used to, with a mission I've got no clue how to go about completing. Oh, and if I don't get it done quick, Butler's gonna killed by the most polite psycho of all time.

No fucking pressure.

**A/N: Cliffhanger! I haven't done one in ages ;)**

**So, you really don't need me to tell you what's going down next chapter. Suffice to say, it'll hopefully lead to some exciting stuff.**

**Oh, and I hope you're enjoying the quicker update speed. I don't know how long it'll last, but it's good while it does.**

**As usual, thank you all for reading, I really appreciate it. I'm sure you all know that from the amount of times I say it, but I like reiterating the point. **

**See you next chapter!**


	38. Ian vs The Pet

Chapter 38

Greg Edmonson: Cornered

"Alright, here we go," I mutter to myself, stepping out into the corridor with the assault rifle clutched in my hands, as I point it back up towards the krogan fruit bowl painting and press forward. I don't know much about assault rifles, but even I can tell this thing is low-grade, bog standard mercenary fare. It'll probably take a whole clip to get through shields and kill someone, and that's assuming I can make every shot hit with the recoil throwing my arms all over the place. Laet would probably be physically sick if I showed this thing to him.

Still, it's got a bit of weight to it, so I suppose smacking people upside the head might be my best bet. Assuming I last long enough to run into some guards. I mean, I'm moving around here with my gun, looking the part, but I've got no idea where I'm even supposed to be looking or what I plan on doing. For all I know, Butler might not even be in the house anymore…

Nope, I can't think negative. Ripard's got no reason to move him somewhere else, he'll be here. I just need to work out where. I pause before the door leading back into the reception room's upstairs area, scrolling through my omni-tool contacts list to Garrus' name. Calling in full back up might cause Ripard to kill Butler, so I need to stay alone in here, but a thermal scan might be useful…

"_The number you have dialled is either unavailable, or out of your network range," _a crisp, female voice reminds me, in a tone totally inappropriate for the current situation. _"Please try again later. The number you have dialled is either-"_

"I know, I know," I say, sighing as I look in the top right corner of my omni-tool display. No signal. Well, fuck. Ripard's obviously deployed some kind of signal jammer, meaning I can kiss any kind of tech support goodbye. It really is just me. Alone. With Butler relying on me to save him.

I try to think back to anytime I've been a situation like this before…and nothing springs to mind. Every serious situation I've been in, I've at least had someone helping me out, watching my back, or a reassuring voice on the radio telling me what to do. In here, I've got no companions except for a really shit gun and my own voice. The fact I'm even considering talking to myself suggests I'm going a bit crazy from stress. God, I'm really underqualified for this, aren't I?

"Fuck's sake, this isn't the time to have a career crisis," I say under my breath. Ooh, there we go. I'm officially talking to myself. It's oddly reassuring, though. And I don't feel like I'm crazy. As a temporary measure, maybe this'll be useful. I'll just have to promise myself not to make a habit of it.

Right, I can do this. I've been in worse situations before, I just need to be resourceful. I look back down at my omni-tool, taking the screen to my local files and heading to recent downloads. Ripard's lower encryption was good for luring us in, but it did also mean Butler and I could get the schematics for the building.

So, if he's taken him for a chat, I can assume he was alluding to interrogation, perhaps torture. Which should narrow down the potential room choice. Let's see…it won't be anywhere too big or too small, since the best method for that kind of thing involves enough personal contact for the 'interviewee' to constantly be aware of their questioner and what's happening. Too much room, and you risk losing contact, too little, and stepping closer to add pressure just won't work. That cuts out about half of the rooms, either storage cupboards, or large halls scattered around each wing of the house.

Alright, what else…the ideal room would only have one entrance. That way, even if Butler gets loose, there's only one way for him to go and it'll be heavily guarded. To the same end, the room most likely won't have a window, which I can see marked on the map. That cuts out the entirety of the east wing which I'm in, since it's all bedrooms and bathrooms with multiple entrances and windows. And that doesn't actually seem to fit anywhere in the west wing…except for a medium sized room just to the left of what appear to be a dining room and kitchen. One door, no windows, good size for interrogation. It's the best fit in the entire place.

Looks like I've got my objective. I place a marker on the room, and the omni-tool quickly maps the fastest route for me. Since it's synched with my suit, I can place a small map in the bottom left of my vision, complete with highlighted path…and we're ready to go.

"GO STRAIGHT ON," a loud, angry female voice yells in my ear, making me jolt in shock and frantically turn the volume on the navigation down. Fuck me, do not want…though at least that happened while I'm in a corridor, rather than when I'm stalking a guard. I reach down to the door control, crouching stealthily as it opens and I step out, moving to the banister that overlooks the downstairs part of the entrance hall.

Then I quickly duck down upon seeing two guards there. Well, now the trap's been sprung, Ripard's obviously reinstated normal security…but the route I need to take goes downstairs. Maybe there's an alternate way? I push my back to the banister, dimming the omni-tool's brightness as I double check the map. It looks like there's something at the far end of the west wing that leads downstairs...but it does put me further away from my objective. Then again, I'm not going to be much use if those two guards spot me.

I pad towards the door leading into the west wing, grateful for the plush, red carpet underneath my feet cushioning my footsteps as I look around. Decorative plaques on the walls, wood cabinets with weaponry and ceremonial plates…Ripard's got way, wayyyy too much dough going spare. The door's unlocked, letting me step through…and into a games room, due to the pool table on one side, darts board, and fully stocked bar in the far right corner. The whole place is a disgusting daffodil yellow colour, but my disgust at the aesthetic doesn't stop me from spotting the guard in the room. Fortunately, he's too preoccupied with the bar to notice anyone coming in. His back's turned as he rummages through the bottles, letting me creep closer and closer, ready to cloak if I have to. There's a palpable irony here, considering Ripard got caught stealing from his employer, yet one of his guards is doing the exact same thing for him. Too bad I'm not in much of a position to point that out.

I get to the bar, crouching down behind the counter as I clutch the assault rifle. I've not got enough room to swing this thing to make a decent impact, and shooting is gonna make too much noise. Plus I really don't need to kill this guy. Carefully placing the assault rifle on the ground, I shift so I'm able to reach up and grab a bottle off the top of the bar. Perfect. Ever so carefully, I rise to my feet, pull my arm back, then tap the mercenary twice on the shoulder.

He turns around with a shocked look, just in time to catch me smash the bottle into his face. Instead of the glass shattering like I expected, it just impacts with a solid *clunk*, sending the mercenary sprawling to the ground unconscious as I stare at the bottle in surprise. It's still firmly intact, with a bit of blood dripping off the corner where I made the hit. "I don't even know," I mutter, placing it back down on the bar and scooping up the assault rifle as I step over the guard's prone body and into the next room.

Display cabinets galore in here. Various different armour sets, presumably ranging through the ages, given the clunky looking design on some of them with wide shoulder pads, and enormous greaves, leading to the more slimline designs of the current day. Sliding the rifle onto my back, I step through the displays, unable to help looking at everything. A full Eclipse set of armour is mounted onto the wall, next to the door my map is telling me to leave through. I'm about to do that, when a display case just to the left of the armour cabinet catches my eye.

Is that a sword?

I jog over to it, looking through the glass at a metallic looking blade. Similar style to a katana, minus the handguard, but the blade is a dull coloured metal instead of the typical kind of steel you expect from a sword. I can see a tiny switch on the pommel, too, and a magnetic strip is laid next to it, presumably to attach the sword to a set of armour. I've heard of these…HVBs. High Vibration Blades. I admit, the name made me giggle a bit the first time I heard it, but here one is. They can cut through virtually anything, they're really expensive…

I look around behind me, waving my omni-tool over the cabinet to check for alarms, and finding none. Well, I'm not going to lose any sleep about stealing from Ripard, so…I smash an armoured elbow through the glass, hefting the blade out with a grunt of effort as I attach the magnetic strip to my back. Fuck, it's heavy! I flick the switch on, feeling and hearing a menacing low hum as I lift it, the blade audibly cutting through the air before I turn it off and put it over my shoulder, so the handle is just poking over it. I'm not sure where I'll find a practical use for this thing, especially since I've got no idea how to use a sword, but no way am I leaving it behind.

The minimap shows that the next room has the stairway downstairs in it, which is a plus. However, it's also showing that the room itself is fucking massive. Still, I'm sure there'll be absolutely no guards in there…but to be sure, I grab the snake cam on my armour and roll it under the door.

The video feed shows a room with a piano in the centre of it…and nothing else. White walls and a wide open space, presumably for the acoustics. Oh, and two guards positioned on either side of the room.

Hmm…if I run in, two will be able to take me down. I fancy my odds with one, though, so I need to make a lure. The door's unlocked, so I make it open, then close it straight away, then open it again.

I hear a long sigh from one a guard, a salarian male, as he looks over to his buddy, who's a human bloke. "Stupid electronic doors," he mutters, walking over as I tense from behind the corner. "I don't know what was wrong with push and pull…took a bit of effort, but at least they didn't spazz out every once in a while-"

I'm sorely tempted to use the HVB here, but the knife works a lot better. I spin it out of the holster and jump forward, grabbing the salarian and pressing the knife up against the weakly armoured section of his neck as his buddy pulls his pistol on me.

"You call for backup, neither of you walks out of here, alright?" I shout, pricking the salarian's skin with the knife. God, I feel like such an ass doing this…then again, I could've just come in shooting. This way, both of them can walk out of here. Eventually. The salarian was wriggling a little bit, but me pressing the knife's made him stop. "Don't sweat it, mate. I'm sure your friend loves you enough not to shoot you." The mercs think I'm Deadpool, scourge of Omega, terror of the unlawful…so I should play to my existing advantage.

"Ripard said you were dead," the human replies, still holding his shotgun up as I step closer and closer to him. Shotgun…perfect. Assuming he cares about his friend, he won't shoot using that. If not, well…this is gonna sting.

"I got better," I reply. "And if you haven't shot by now, you're not going to, so listen carefully. My beef's with Ripard, not you. Far as I'm concerned, you two aren't my problem."

"Tell that to him," the merc replies nervously. "You're the one holding a knife to his neck."

"And if I wasn't, I'd be a corpse right now," I say. "Ripard's not worth giving your life over, is he? Enterprising people like you, I'm sure you can find work somewhere else if this goes tits up." I can see the gun shaking in the guard's hands. "Come on. Put it down. We don't have to do this the hard way."

With a frustrated hiss, the merc throws the gun to the floor, putting his hands up. "Now what?" he asks, glaring at me.

Ah. I didn't actually think this far ahead. Now he's disarmed, I could just kill him and the salarian…saves me a lot of bother, and it makes sure I don't get any problems later on.

…

Did I seriously just think that? I can't kill people to save time, that's fucked up!

"Well, ideally I'd get you to cuff yourselves or something, but I've not exactly got any cuffs going spare," I say. "So, uh…look, I can't trust you not to call backup when I leave." The merc's eyes widen in fear. "Whoa, no, that's not what I'm getting at. And I don't blame you, I'd do the same in your position. But…I'm gonna have to knock you out."

The human gives me an odd look, and I see his hands ball into fists. "Maybe we don't want that." Ah, he's getting a bit feisty, enough to want to fight back…so time to put the screws on again.

I press the knife into the salarian's neck again, this time actually drawing blood. "You sure?" I hiss threateningly. "I'm giving you a way out. Now, I can leave with no-one hurt, or the Eclipse clean-up team are going to have to take two corpses to the morgue. Your call."

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" the guy says, his hands loosening off in fear. "You don't have to do that."

"Look, if I punch you out, it makes it plausible," I say. I'm actually doing a one man good cop, bad cop here, aren't I? "No-one's gonna blame you for it. Just turn around, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your back."

The human gives me a long, hard look, then nods slowly. "I don't get paid enough for this shit," he mutters, turning around and dropping to his knees like I asked. Good man. In one quick motion, I ram my fist twice into the back of the salarian's head, knocking him out as I take a step forward, pull the assault rifle off my back and slam it into the human, making him slump forward unconscious as I slide the weapon back again. Part of me's amazed that actually worked…though considering I was doing good cop, bad cop with one person, they were probably scared from how bipolar I was being. Meh.

It's a simple enough matter leaving the unconscious guys behind, heading through the door behind the piano, and taking some narrow back-stairs down into the lower floors. From the looks of it, no-one ever comes back here…meaning I probably won't be detected. Good. The room I've marked is only about twenty metres away, but I've got to head through four other rooms to get there. Assuming it's even the correct one. It has to be, though. Right?

I reach the bottom of the stairs, pushing through…and recoiling at a smell that manages to get through my helmet as I look around the small, darkened room, which has cages stacked on either side of it. This must be where they keep the guard varren…thank fuck they've all been deployed.

I step forward quickly, intending to leave as fast as I can…when I hear a pathetic whimpering from one of the cages from my left. I whirl around…and from the darkness at the back of it, an average sized, but very skinny varren crawls forward, eyes distrusting as he looks at me. Red eyes, on top of white skin. Aww, he's an albino…and not a well kept one, by the look of it. He lets out a whine again, pressing his face up against the bars weakly.

Fuck. I really do need to leave…but I can't just walk out now he's done that. "Why do you have to be so fucking cute?" I mutter, turning around and noticing a bucket filled with some kind of disgusting looking meat, presumably pyjak. Lifting the bucket up, I tip it up against the bars, letting the cuts of flesh slide in for the varren. With a pleased growl, it dives in eagerly, devouring half of the meat before I can even blink as he smacks his jaws together. Obviously happy with his meal, he lifts his big eyes to make contact with me again…and this time, the mistrust is gone, as he leans down on his front legs and lets out a happy sort of purring noise. Hmm…there might be more guards around. A varren on the loose might distract them enough to let me slip past. Hell, he might even be able to escape. It's more of a chance than he is stuck in this cage.

I unlock the cage, stepping back quickly as the varren bolts out, then presses against my legs happily, his tongue lolling out as he butts his head gently into my thigh. "You need to go, alright?" I say, moving to the door with him and opening it, then pointing down the corridor. He looks at me meekly, lowering down on his front legs, and refusing to move. Goddamn it…I pet the top of his head, get an even louder purr as I point down the corridor again. "Go. Please."

The varren's head follows my finger…and finally, he walks off slowly, looking back at me sadly as he goes. Poor little thing…but now he's got a fighting chance. I guess that's a successful rescue, it's just too bad I've rescued completely the wrong fucking thing. As he pads off down the corridor, I turn to the first door on my right in a corridor with similar paintings to the one upstairs, moving into an empty kitchen. Alright, a stroke of luck! I weave between fridges and ovens quickly, almost decapitating myself on a precariously hanging row of butcher's knives before I emerge out into a dining room, complete with a large table in the centre of it, and twelve chairs surrounding the place.

I glance at the map in the lower portion of my screen as I walk forward. I just need to go out into the new corridor, take the door on the first right, and I'll be there. Perfect, only a few metres away-

"Got you, you bastard," a deep human voice growls, as an arm wraps around my neck, and a knife presses under my helmet. Oh, the fucking irony! I whip my head back, headbutting my assailant quickly and making him loosen his grip…as I turn around to see an absolute mountain of a man, who's now recovered in time to clock me in the face, knocking me flying off my feet and dazing me as I try and crawl back up.

Before I can recover, I've got a foot pressing down on my throat, crushing my windpipe through the thin armour as I wriggle underneath the smiling mercenary. "You're gonna make me rich," he chuckles, as I feel darkness slipping in at the edges of my vision…

And suddenly air's rushing back in again, as the mercenary is pushed to the floor next to me, and I hear a savage growling noise as I roll my head to see him pinned, with a varren's jaws snapping at his neck. He opens his mouth to scream…just as said jaws clamp around his throat, and with a furious pull, rip it clean out. I look away in disgust, but not before I see the merc's body spasm and the wound spurt out blood before finally going limp, the albino varren letting out a low hiss as it turns its head towards me.

Blood dripping gently from its jaws, it stalks down, places its mouth next to my face…and my visor suddenly becomes wet as he licks it happily. "Get off, you," I say, pushing him away gently as I stand up, coughing from the lack of air, and sit down in one of the chairs as I recover. The varren sits on its hind legs, eagerly looking at me as I rub the top of its head. Holy shit, it saved my life… "Thank fuck you don't listen to orders," I gasp, as he purrs and tries to nuzzle against my hand. "You really don't want to leave me, do you?"

The varren growls at the word 'leave', nuzzling harder as I rub under one of his ears. He might complicate things…but he's not leaving, and he did just save me. I can't abandon him now. "Alright, fine, you can come," I say, recovering sufficiently to stand up again as he lets out a happy yelp. "Hey, sssh!" I hiss, and he quietens down instantly. He's smart, huh? "You need a name, mate." I look at his white skin, and one springs to mind instantly. "Come on, Ghost. We're not done yet."

With the varren now following on my heels, I press up against the door leading out of the room, rolling the snake cam under again. One salarian guard, posted at the door across from me. The target room. I feel a surge of relief in my chest. He's not keeping stuff out, he's making sure it stays in. Butler…

The room's door is locked, though, probably with the same encryption that Ripard used when Butler and I were locked into that room. Which means I'll need to force entry…but the guard has a pistol, and I have a tactical cloak. Plan!

"Stay," I say firmly, looking at Ghost and pointing down at the floor. He sits down obediently, tongue still lolling out as I give him a pat on the head, activate the tactical cloak, and open the door. The guard gives it a surprised look as I walk out, walking up cautiously as I stand to one side of the corridor to let him stroll past. As soon as he does, I step behind him, pull the pistol out of his holster and slam his head against the wall with my other hand, pressing the pistol against his skull.

"Evening," I growl menacingly. "Now, I'm not going to waste either of our valuable time. So. You're going to knock on that door. Good so far?"

"I've got it," the salarian replies, sounding scared. He's just young, I think. His voice is even higher pitched than other ones I've heard.

"Knock on the door, and shout that Deadpool managed to get free," I say, grabbing the salarian's back and pushing him against the door, with my pistol still against his head. "Say it needs Ripard's immediate attention. Do it. Now."

He slowly lifts his hand up and knocks. "_What?" _I hear Ripard's voice ask. I press the pistol in again for emphasis.

"Deadpool's free," the salarian gasps. "You need to get out here and lead the hunt for him! He's tearing through the guards!"

There's a pause, and the door control suddenly turns green. The salarian looks at me, as I shrug and smack his head off the wall with a dull thud, letting him drop as I signal back for Ghost to follow me. I heft the pistol in, press the door control, and burst in.

"Ah, so he wasn't lying," Ripard comments, from his position across the room, with his back to the wall and a gun pointed at Butler's head. "When he said you were here, I thought there was a chance he was saying it under duress. Good thing I took precautions. I'm curious, actually. How did you survive?"

"Your malevolent architecture needs work," I growl, as I weigh up the distances. He's about five metres away from me, but he's holding Butler to shield himself. Shooting him is entirely possible…doesn't make it easy, though. Especially since Butler has no armour. "Maybe next time, you build the laser grid without the slide."

"It was a waste disposal unit before it was a deathtrap," Ripard responds calmly. "I confess, I didn't think that far ahead. No matter. Drop your weapon, and you won't have to watch Sam here die."

"You'll kill him anyway," I hiss.

"Maybe, maybe not," he says. "But you don't want it to be your bullet that causes him to die. You're trapped here. Cornered. Put the weapon down. Turn it on yourself. I don't care."

"Shoot him, Shaw," Butler says. My eyes briefly flick to the Scot's face. Aside from some bruises to the face, and a cut or two, he looks fine. Nothing he can't handle. "I'm no' in the mood for any more of his shite."

I square the sights up. I can do this… "You don't need to do this," I insist. "Butler didn't give you up. You're looking for revenge in the wrong place!"

"I know what happened, and the testimony of a man such as yourself is unlikely to change that," he says. "Besides, even if I wanted to let him go on a personal level, Umbra would not allow it. You've been causing them a lot of trouble."

"Oh?" I feign surprise. "Have we now? Care to share how we've been doing that?"

"You're fighting against a power that will soon rule this place," Ripard says. "Like insects, biting away. Annoyances to be crushed, nothing more."

"We'll see about that," I reply. "Put the gun down, Ripard. You've lost."

"I don't think so," he chuckles. "My victory is just beginning." I've been watching his eyes carefully, and with those words, I see a small flicker, and a twitch in his trigger finger.

He's going to shoot Butler.

I squeeze the trigger on my pistol, the bullet flying through Ripard's brain and spattering the wall behind him with blood and chunks as he falls back, and Butler hurries away from the corpse, gasping as I slowly pull the still smoking gun back. There goes our chance to find out more about Umbra…but at least Butler's safe. "You alright?" I ask quickly, sliding the assault rifle off my back and tossing it to him.

"The wee bastard hit me a few times, but aye, I'm alright," the Scot nods. "My brothers used to beat me up a lot worse than that when I was younger." I can't help but grin. Even after getting captured, and almost killed, he really just doesn't give a fuck. I guess it comes with experience. "Glad you killed him. He wouldnae shut up. Going on and on about how great he was…"

I fix Butler with a look. "You've been looking for revenge on him for a year now. You sure you feel okay?"

"No, Shaw, I'm torn by indecision and emptiness," he replies sarcastically. "Bawbag deserved everything he got. It keeps Nalah safe, and I'm glad he's dead. End of discussion." I stare at him for a few seconds more. "Not everyone's like you about this stuff, you know."

"Apparently not," I mutter, as Butler looks down to the varren next to me, as I pat his head. "Oh, this is Ghost, by the way. Say hi."

"Hello, Ghost," Butler says, eyeing up the sword on my back. "Good to see my safety came behind looting the place."

"I knew you'd be fine," I shrug, grinning under the helmet as I look back at the door. "The mercs don't know I'm in here, so we can head out, leave through a window. Alright?"

"Sounds like a plan," Butler nods. "Further away we get from this place, the better." All three of us head out into the corridor and back into the dining room, as I slide open the window for us to get out of. There's a clear run to the unguarded wall…and I'm sure I can help Ghost over. "I thought you said you werenae much of a soldier," the Scot comments, as we clamber out of the window and run to the wall.

"I'm not," I reply, a little surprised. "What're you getting at?"

"You snuck through an enemy compound, shot the guy holding me hostage and carried out a rescue, all by yourself?" he asks rhetorically. "If you're no' a soldier, then at the very least you've got baws of steel."

"I'm just lucky," I say, as Butler climbs the wall. Ghost manages to leap up to try and follow him, and I run underneath so he can use my shoulders as support to get up and over. I'm not lying, either. "Instinct kicked in."

"Aye, well, whatever you want to call it, it's impressive," Butler says, as we run clear of the compound, and I check my omni-tool. Ah, signal's back! "You're alright, Shaw."

"Don't mention it," I gasp, as we pull to a halt inside an alley. I rest my head back against the wall, sighing as Butler places the call for extraction and Ghost nudges his head against mine.

Mind-raped by an Aradt-Yakshi, almost killed by a floor trap and carrying out a solo rescue mission.

How can this night get any worse?

**A/N: Find out how next chapter! **

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed that. Now we have an HVB, and more importantly, a pet varren! Isn't he cute? And yes, Ghost is a shameless reference to Game of Thrones. Cos it's awesome.**

**Also, anyone notice Ian being a little Renegade there? **

**Regardless, thanks for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you next chapter! Bye bye!**


	39. Ian vs The Call

Chapter 39

Feeder: Love Pollution

**A/N: Mad props to TheRev28 with helping out in the latter part of this chapter.**

"What the _fuck _is that?" Melanis shouts as Butler, Vortash, Ghost and I walk into the living room, causing her to stand up from the couch she's sat on with a horrified look on her face. The other squad members look surprised, but I can see a few eyes lighting up when they see the happy expression on Ghost's face as I stroke his head reassuringly.

"It's a varren, Melanis," I say calmly.

"I can see that," she growls, eyes narrowing at me. "Actually, I think I phrased the question wrong. What the fuck is it doing in my house?"

"Come on, honey, it's not just your house," I say, my voice teasing her while stepping over to a sofa with Ghost. I can see the female turian's talons ball into fists as I walk, making the whole thing twice as fun. "You need to learn to share when we're all living together."

"What is he called?" Erash asks next to me, leaning over to gently pet the varren, who purrs as the turian's talon scrapes along his back.

"Ghost," I reply, locking eye contact with Melanis as I reply. "Isn't he cute?"

"No, he's not!" she says insistently, heading over to Ghost with a furious look in her eyes. "Varren are big, dirty, they need exercised, they-" She's suddenly cut off by Ghost turning around to look at the new person coming to see him, as he butts his head against her leg and lies down in front of her, tongue lying out happily as he nudges into her again. The turian and varren lock eyes for a few seconds, silence filling the room until Ghost lets out a little whine for attention. I notice a tiny sigh in Melanis, as she reaches down and gives him a quick stroke, causing Ghost to give a happy growl and roll over onto his side.

"Can we keep him?" I ask, putting on a pretend six year old voice. "Pleaseee?"

Melanis scratches Ghost's belly, making the varren wriggle as she looks up at me, and her mandibles widen in a tiny smile. "Fine. But you have to look after him, feed him, walk him, everything. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," I reply, saluting as she rolls her eyes, standing up away from Ghost as Erash fills the gap she leaves. The rest of the squad have all just been watching with mixed levels of amusement. Well, everyone except Grundan. Sensat's actually out with the group, though, and I can see Vortash sitting next to her protectively as she looks at Ghost with interest. A pet might be really good for her, actually…

"Ripard's dead, by the way," Butler says, looking around from the kitchen as he gets a beer. "If anyone cares." No-one replies. "Even though the bawbag caught me and was gonnae kill me." Ghost lets out a happy yelp as Monteague sits down next to him and lightly rubs under his chin, causing a synchronised 'aww' from everyone in the group. "Aye, the new pet's obviously more important…" he grumbles, sitting down next to Garrus as the turian laughs.

"Good work on the mission, you two," Garrus says, as I turn my attention away from Ghost and towards him. "If we keep putting the pressure on Jaroth, his tainted eezo operation is finished."

"Yeah, but we've got bigger problems than just an eezo operation," I say, looking over to Butler. "Ripard said he was part of Umbra."

"It's how the bastard got his job back after they caught him stealing," Butler explains, as the group starts to pay attention to the debrief. Ghost walks back over to me, and I tickle behind his ear idly as the Scot talks. "Apparently they've got similar interests in making as much money from this place as they can. It's no' the most ethical business plan, so I shouldnae be surprised Ripard got himself involved."

"So Umbra's more than one person," Garrus muses, leaning back. "And they've got influence in the merc groups to get Ripard into a lieutenant position…"

"I think we're looking at a network here," I suggest. "Ripard definitely wasn't at the top of the chain, but he still worked for them."

"I knew this was some conspiracy!" Laet says triumphantly. "People in every part of Omega's society, pulling the strings behind the scenes, making everyone dance to their tune…"

"As good as that imagery is, please, do not exaggerate," Erash mutters disapprovingly. "We do not know all the facts."

"If they're strong enough to have influence with the mercs, we need to take them seriously," Garrus says. "They had links to the base we found Sensat in, and that was built underneath an Eclipse base. Getting that kind of thing done takes more than pulling a few strings."

"Wait," Vortash says, holding up a talon. "Umbra are involved with what happened to Sensat?" He shuffles a fraction closer to the girl, who's staring intently at Garrus as he explains the situation.

"Yeah," Garrus nods. "It looks that way."

Vortash just bows his head, presumably locking that information away for future reference. Something tells me if an Umbra operative runs into him, they're not going to live to tell the tale… "Look, we can't do anything about Umbra right now," I say. "I had to shoot Ripard, so we're not getting any more information out of him, and there's no other leads to chase on this."

"He's right," Garrus agrees. "But we don't ignore this. Everyone needs to keep an eye out for anything about Umbra. We'll continue our operations as normal, but Umbra's high priority. I don't care how small the leads are, we need to hunt these people down. Got it?"

Everyone around the group nods, rising to their feet as Garrus does the same. "Alright. It's getting late, so I'm getting some rest," the turian says. I barely stifle a yawn as he says that, and it suddenly hits me just how fucking knackered I am. After Morinth and the mission with Ripard…ooh, some sleep would be really good right about now. "We'll plan out the next step for finishing Jaroth's operation in the morning, and we're not going to be much good staggering around with two hours sleep. I'll see you all in the morning." Well, we can both agree on that, mate. I'll just put my stuff away, and –

"Ian!" Laet shouts over, as the crew begins to disperse. Oh, for fuck's sake, I should've known something would happen. "You picked up an HVB from that Ripard guy's house?"

"Yeah, and some crappy assault rifle and pistol we can put in the armoury," I reply. To be fair, Laet's grav clips did save my life back on that mission, so I owe him a conversation at the very least. "You want to have a look at everything?"

"Are you kidding?" he asks, nodding enthusiastically. "I've always had ideas of how to modify HVBs, I've just never had the chance."

He's like a kid in a sweet shop, isn't he? "You go get the workshop ready, and I'll grab it from my locker," I chuckle, watching as the turian practically sprints to his room. I walk to said locker, pulling out the blade and stolen weapons as someone clears their throat behind me.

"Nice job helping Butler," Garrus says, mandibles spread wide in a toothy grin. "He told me Ripard managed to capture him, but you pulled off a rescue mission."

"And I told him," I reply, smiling back. "I got lucky. It's no big deal, we'd all do that for each other."

"I wanted to say I'm impressed," the turian says. "You know, back at C-Sec, I never thought you'd be able to do anything like this."

I raise an eyebrow. "That's an interesting attempt at a compliment."

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I, uh…I think that came out wrong."

"Aye, maybe a bit," I laugh. "I've come a long way from C-Sec. Hell, we both have."

"Yeah," he says, nodding his head idly. "I never thought I'd be out leading a squad in the Terminus System. Omega, of all places. Makes me wonder what my father would say if he saw me here."

"He probably wouldn't like it," I shrug. "I mean, he did petition Pallin to get me make you go back to the Citadel. Didn't really think his opinion bothered you, though."

"It doesn't," Garrus replies. "I just think about it sometimes. Like Shepard. After every mission, I always try and think about what she would have said. What she would have done."

"You're defending the innocent," I say, giving him a reassuring smile. "She'd be proud of you, Garrus. Besides, you can ask her what she thinks in a few months, right?"

His mandibles widen as he smiles at the thought. "Yeah. I can." His beady eyes look down at me. "Thanks, Ian."

"No worries," I grin. "I don't want you having a leadership crisis or something here, after all."

The turian chuckles. "Please. I wouldn't give the mercs the satisfaction." We just stand together, enjoying a rare moment of silence on Omega before he clears his throat again and look to the stairs up to his room. "Don't stay up too late, alright? Just in case you have to come along and help with the eezo operation."

"Just giving Laet some new things to play with," I say, shaking the bundle of weaponry in my arms. "Besides, I've got the serial killer stuff to look into tomorrow."

"Oh, how's that going?" Garrus asks.

"I've got leads I'm running through," I say evasively. "Nothing's moving too fast, but I'm getting there." Not moving too fast…if almost getting killed by Morinth isn't 'moving fast', I don't know what is.

"Good to see you're still a detective at heart," Garrus chuckles, turning towards the stairs. "And it's nice having someone I can trust to deal with this." I feel a small lurch in my stomach when he says that, and I think back to Evan. This is such a dick move…but he'll kill Evan if he finds out, so I can't tell him. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Later," I reply, wanting to facepalm as Garrus goes up the stairs and I head to Laet's room. It's for his own good. I just need to keep telling myself that. Realising I'm unable to open the door with no free hands, I kick the base of it. "Laet! Open up!"

The door's open in second, and the turian's eyes lighten up as his eyes catch upon the HVB and he ushers me in, pulling it away from the assault rifle and pistol before I can do anything. He turns his back as the door closes behind me, and I just dump the other two weapons on a table, smiling to myself as Laet examines the blade. "This is the real thing," he breathes. "Not a cheap knockoff. Perfect weight, balance, lightweight energy cells…"

"It's fucking heavy, if you ask me," I say, feeling a bit jealous as Laet carries it around with ease in one hand. The turian quickly turns it on, grinning widely as he hears the hum, before switching it off and laying it on his table. "So, what cunning designs have you got for this?"

"Oh, ones like you wouldn't believe," he says enthusiastically, practically sprinting to a filing cabinet as he starts flinging out datapads. "Let me see…ah, here we go!" He pulls one out, swivelling and hurling it at me with incredible force. I barely pull my head out of the way, as the pad smacks into the wall behind me, managing to leave a small dent as I tilt my head to Laet and raise an eyebrow. "Calm down, I know, I know…" he mutters, pouring through the datapads at a more sensible rate as I turn around and pick up the one he threw.

"A customisation that sprays a flammable propellant across the blade, causing the blade to catch fire when it's swung," I read, looking at up at Laet, who's clutching two more datapads and is smiling happily. "That sounds…interesting."

"That's because it is," he nods. "You'll literally be able to burn through armour with that. Only downside is, if that propellant leaks or gets onto you, any heat sources nearby are going to light you up like a bonfire."

"That's a bit too much of a drawback," I say, laying the datapad to one side. "I'd rather not set myself on fire, if it's all the same to you."

"I said it's a risk, not a guarantee," Laet replies huffily. "But fine. How about this one?" He tosses another one over, and this time I'm able to catch it without breaking my hand. "It removes the vibration limiter. Whatever it used to be able to cut through, it can cut through it quicker, and what it couldn't manage, now you're looking at a chance of getting through."

"But if the vibrations get too out of control, I'll probably lose control and stab myself," I point.

"That's a potential flaw."

"Yeah," I mutter, chucking that datapad to the side as well. "What's the last idea?"

"Electrified blade," Laet says. "Now, I know you're going to make some comment about risks here. But unless you actually touch the blade while it's turned on, or jam it into something with a large electrical current going through it, it's perfectly safe for you."

I give him a cynical look. "Are you just saying that so it sounds like you have at least one good idea?"

"I'm serious," he replies. "You'll be able to overload shields, damage mechs better, and you'll have a sword with an electrical blade. Think about that. _Electrical blade._"

I look at him for a few seconds, then shrug. "What the hell," I say. "You make a good case, Laet. And I'd hate for you not to be able to try at least one of your ideas."

"So I can do it?" he asks. I nod, smiling, as the turian steps forward and puts out a hand for me to shake. "Thank you."

"I'm fairly sure this should be the other way around, since you're doing the work for me," I chuckle. "But no bother. It's nice helping you live the dream."

"I've been wanting to do this for so long," Laet says, whirling around to find some tools as I stand in the middle of the room. I've been meaning to ask him about how things are going with the hunt for his little bro…and Laet'll probably react better when he's in a good mood.

"You been able to find anything else about Darrael?" I ask, leaning against a wall, and preparing to back out of the conversation whenever it looks like it's going south.

"Nothing new," Laet replies, frowning, but still bustling around with his work. "Why? Have you found something?"

"Wish I could say I had," I say apologetically. "I want to be able to keep an ear to the ground for you, though…and you never actually told me what the ship he served on was called."

"The _Taurcan," _he replies, not turning around as he finally finds his tools. "Look, Ian…I appreciate what you're doing here, but all the evidence Garrus and I found says he's dead."

"It just doesn't hurt to keep an ear out," I shrug. "Look, unless I find something, I promise, I won't bring it up."

"Alright, fine," he nods. "But only because you gave me this HVB." We both chuckle, as I head towards the door. Now he's in the crafting zone, I don't want to put him off. "I'll have it ready in…a few days, maybe."

"Cheers, Laet," I say, as the door opens and I step out into the corridor. "See you around." He doesn't reply as it closes, probably too engrossed in his work to hear me. God, I love his enthusiasm…

I start walking down the corridor, when a sudden beep from my omni-tool makes me stop and look down. New message from Evan…

_So I talked to Golo. Bastard wouldn't say anything until I gave him some credits, so next time we meet up, you're paying your half of a thousand credits._

I roll my eyes at that. Fucking cheapskate…though I suppose it's only fair.

_Anyway, he was really evasive. Said there's been rumours flying around, nothing concrete, but he'd heard a likely name. Lemm'Shall nar Tesleya._

Lemm's here? So that means…fuck, Ascension hasn't happened yet, I know that much. But if Lemm's here, that means it's happening…right now.

Long story short, in Ascension events, Cerberus is chasing after this biotic kid, Gillian Grayson. That leads them to Omega, but Cerberus guys there, helped by Golo, kill the people on a quarian scout ship and take their suits for disguises. Eventually, Grayson gets to the Flotilla, Cerberus goes after her…and you get the attack that explains why Tali and all the quarians really, _really _hate Cerberus. Lemm's here to investigate the missing scout ship for his pilgrimage. And Golo's trying to kill him off to save him trouble.

If memory serves, Golo tells Lemm about the place where Cerberus are keeping the scout ship's pilot captive, assuming that Lemm'll get killed trying to storm it. And by setting Evan on him…he's trying to make sure the job's guaranteed to be finished his way.

Too bad he didn't bank on my knowledge.

_Anyway, he gave me the address of some warehouse Lemm's supposed to be in a couple day's time. We can try and intercept him and get some answers then. Sound good to you?_

Couple days? Shit, if I remember correctly, Lemm doesn't bother waiting the extra day because he doesn't trust Golo, so we'll have to hit the warehouse tomorrow. I compose a brief reply, basically agreeing as I start to form a plan. Explaining to Evan that Lemm isn't the bad guy is going to be hard…but we can give the quarian back up on his mission. Hell, he might have heard some real information we can use. As for arriving early, I'm suggesting that we scout out the place so we can get a better idea of where Lemm will come from. I hover my finger above the send button, just as a deep voice says something from the end of the corridor.

"Nice job saving Butler," Grundan mutters, stepping towards me as I quickly send the message and close the omni-tool. God, not now… "Always good seeing people stepping up their game to protect their own species. Or are you just learning from your mistakes, not helping Mierin?"

"I already told you, I tried to save him," I say, sighing. "I'm not going to fight you, Grundan, and we're not having this argument again. You want to make something of this, then do it, or I'm leaving."

"Just making a comment," Grundan says, stepping towards me, but not in an aggressive way. Heck, he's actually smiling. "I've noticed you've been busy lately. Never in the base, coming back late, hiding away when you send omni-tool messages."

I look at him in pretend shock, while quietly freaking out on the inside. "I've been busy hunting that serial killer," I explain.

"Right, right," he nods. "See, I triangulated your location from when Butler called you tonight. You were in an apartment block near Afterlife."

"Chasing down leads."

Grundan folds his arms. "Bullshit."

Fuck's sake, I'm not in the mood for this. "Look, if you really had any evidence of some wrongdoing on my part, you'd have gone to Garrus. You wouldn't be taunting me. So get out of my face, Grundan."

"You're defensive. On edge." Grundan pushes his face closer to mine, all four eyes unblinking. "I'm watching you, Shaw. Garrus and the others trust you, but I know the truth."

"You don't know shit," I growl, just as my omni-tool sets off a quick trill. SHIT. That'll be Evan replying…

A grin slides onto the batarian's face, as he takes a step back and looks at my omni-tool. "Aren't you going to look at that?"

"In private," I nod. "I can't stop you creeping around and watching on me, but I can stop you looking at my private messages."

"Why?" Grundan suddenly closes the gap between us, and I feel my back press against the wall as I try to step away. "Got something to hide?"

"I'm not hiding anything," I reply.

"Then prove it," the batarian growls. Before I can react, he's lifted up my omni-tool hand, and turns the bastard thing on. My right hand balls into a fist, ready to punch him out once he sees the message… "Who the fuck is Tali?" he asks angrily.

I let the fist loosen, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Someone I know from the Normandy," I say, pulling my arm out of his grip and glaring at him. "Check the name with Garrus if you want. Now, are we done here?"

Grundan returns my glare, breathing heavily as he nods. "We're done." With that, he turns and storms back down the corridor. I wait for him to disappear, then press my head back against the wall, whistling through my teeth. That was way, _way _too fucking close. If Grundan's keeping an eye on me, I really need to start keeping an eye on him.

I glance at my omni-tool to check Tali's message. Oh, she's back from a mission, and she wants to chat. And I've been waiting for this chat.

I've ran the numbers, and we're getting close to ME2 events. Only a few months away. Which means, at long last, it's time for me to warn her about her dad and the trial.

I step into the vid conference room, scrolling to Tali's details and hovering my hand above the call button. She's not going to take this well. But it has to be done.

I make the call.

"Ian, hi! How are you?" Tali asks upon answering, sounding and looking a bit more enthusiastic than she has in recent times. Too bad I'm exhausted and stressed the fuck out…and I need to tell her about everything with her dad some time during this conversation.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, trying to think of how to reply to that. I don't want to delve into everything with Morinth, Evan and rescuing Butler, so.. "Eh, not bad. Busy night. Really, really busy night, but it's nice you wanted to chat. How're you?"

"I'm well. I just got back from a mission with Reegar and the squad." She pauses, and I can see the faint outline of her eyes looking me up and down. "So what were you doing that kept you so busy?"

"Vigilante stuff," I shrug. "Taking down bad guys, hunting a serial killer, regular Friday night on Omega. You should come visit, we'd have a blast."

"I don't think the Admirality Board would let me leave," she says. I wait for the chuckle, but it never comes. Oh, she was being serious. That's…I'm not really sure.

"Course not." The conversation grinds to a halt yet again, as I frantically try to think of a topic to loosen the atmosphere before I drop the whole 'potential exile' bombshell. Though I reckon the only way I'd be able to loosen things up enough for that one to pass by would be to get Tali and myself high, and that's definitely not happening. "Got any news?"

"Well...like I said, I just got back from a mission. Kal is teaching me some tricks with my shotgun. Other than that, I haven't had a lot of free time," she replies. Ah, there's a mention of Mr. Baldwin again…I probably shouldn't be surprised Kal's giving her some tuition. They always did get along_ so_ well in the games…

"You and Kal getting along well, then?" I ask, unable to help sounding a tiny bit peeved at that. I blink to try and draw myself back into focus. It's just the stress and fatigue talking.

"He's nice," she nods, sounding shy talking about him. "He's always the marine leader for my missions, so I've learned to trust him to keep me safe."

"Nice to have someone looking after you while I'm gone," I reply. I've been able to talk to Kal a couple of times in the past few months…and I know he'll keep Tali safe, so it's all good. From the looks of things, they're pretty close friends outside of battle too. I remember what that used to be like, on the Normandy with Tali…

There's another long pause in the conversation, as I clear my throat. Shit, we're out of conversation. And I need to tell her about everything before she gets called away, or something else.

This is a horrible idea. Leaving her father to die is more horrible, though. So's keeping this a secret any longer.

Here goes nothing…

"So, erm…" I say, wringing my hands. "I've got some news for you."

"Really?" Tali asks, whole body perking up as I say that. "What kind of news?"

"Uh…" Now, I need to phrase this as delicately as I can for her. Sensitive issue doesn't even begin to do it justice, so I'll break it in gently. "Not the best kind."

"That…doesn't sound promising." Tali places her hands on her hips, staring at me. "What is it, Ian? You know you can tell me anything."

Oh, God, that's half the fucking problem. I can tell her anything, but I still didn't. I didn't want to make her worry so early, plus after she left me at the spaceport…I've not been able to find the right moment. I at least wanted our relationship to strengthen a bit before I pulled this, but that's not really happened, so I'm just stuck with this now. "There's no easy way to put this," I say. "And if there is, I really can't think of it. Look." I pause again. This is gonna be bad, isn't it? "I know you've been sending geth parts to your father. Right?"

There's a long pause as Tali stares at me. "How did you know that?" she finally asks.

I tap the top of my head, giving an apologetic shrug. "Another universe, remember?"

"I never thought that game of yours would ever mention something like this," she replies, still sounding surprised. And suspicious.

"See, here's the thing...your dad's not exactly been straight up with you about what he's using them for," I say cautiously, trying to test the water as best I can.

"What are you talking about, Ian?"

"He's experimenting on them," I admit. "And not the inanimate bits. I mean, he's reactivating the stuff you send, and then researching on it. I don't remember the exact details."

Tali sounds stunned as she replies. "I...I can't believe that. My father would never lie to me like that."

"I know it's hard to believe," I say, doing my best to sound reassuring as I keep talking. At least she's not flipping out… "And I'm sorry to lay it on thick like this. But...by the time Shepard comes back, he's gonna try reactivating them, and it's going to go wrong. I mean, badly wrong. 'Ship overrun by geth' style wrong."

"No...No, no no no," Tali says, slowly shaking her head. "No, he would never do something like that. He knows how risky it would be to reactivate the geth."

"He'll do it anyway. To take back your homeworld, he thinks it's worth the risk," I explain. "But I'm telling you this because you need to warn him. If things don't change..." I pause, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as I look down. The worst thing is, the news still gets worse from here. "If you don't change this, the geth will kill him."

"I...he..." Tali seems unable to think of the words to say for a few seconds, before she finally composes herself. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" she asks, her tone accusing. "I would have never sent him anything if I knew he'd do this."

"He'll get data from his research, and that data could be vital. I don't know how, but it's too big to lose. I couldn't tell you until he had enough time to make progress." Considering Daro'Xen goes crazy over that data, no way is it a minor detail that can just pass the universe by with no effect. Somehow, it'll be important. And if it's not…I'm going to feel like such a tit.

"And I would have understood that if you had told me," she insists. "I could have chosen select pieces to send back if I knew what he was actually working on."

"That's the thing," I reply, silently willing her to see this my way. "Select pieces might not have done it. What if you'd missed out the vital piece he used to get his data from?"

"It still comes back to why you didn't tell me." There's a definite anger in her tone now. "Couldn't you trust me? Don't you think I would have liked to know this sooner?"

"Come on, Tali, this is bigger than what the two of us want!" I say, hearing and feeling desperation in my voice as I step closer to the camera. "I would've loved to tell you. I really, really would have. But I can't take a risk like that."

"Why not? Wasn't it a much bigger risk to tell me about your origins in the first place? Compared to that, this seems small," she shoots back.

"I told you so you'd be able to trust me," I say, trying to keep my voice calm. "I explained, some things, I'd have to keep hidden. You and Garrus both know that."

"So then what haven't you been telling Garrus about?" she snaps. "And what else haven't you told _me_ about? Because it sounds like there's quite a bit left."

Oh, she wants to know the whole truth? "You're right, there _is_ more to tell you," I reply, just as sharply. "Once your dad reactivates the geth, the Admirality Board are going to trace the parts back to you. You're going to be on trial for treason, Tali." She takes a sudden step back at that, and I feel my face fall in horror. God, why did I say it like that? "Look, I'm so, so sorry to be the one telling you this..."

Her eyes widen behind the mask as she looks at me. "Wha…what? No, no, they would never do that. They wouldn't…" She stops mid-sentence, here eyes burning into mine. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I already said, I couldn't afford to let anything change with your dad!" I say, raising my voice to match hers. "The galaxy can't afford that!"

"To hell with the galaxy, Ian!" Tali shouts. "What is there if I can't trust you? And how can I trust you if you can't trust me?"

"Oh, you want to talk about trust?" I ask, feeling my emotions just sliding loose one by one. "How about you and Kal, huh? I've been waiting for the right time to tell you about this, but ever since you left me at the spaceport, there's never _been _a right time! What the fuck happened to us, Tali?"

"You think I would betray your trust with Kal?" Tali replies, voice low and filled with anger. "If you thought that, I really don't know what happened between us."

I turn around briefly, rubbing both my temples in frustration. Tonight is not the night for this… "Look, I've given you your warning. Everything you need to know to save your dad, you've got it."

"Is there anything else I should know about?" she asks sarcastically.

"Oh, sarcasm," I mutter. "That's really cute. Trust me, Tali, it doesn't suit you."

"If there's nothing else you have to tell me, I think you should go, Ian," Tali says, her voice almost emotionless as she looks at me, her arms folded.

"That's it?" I step forward. "I just leave? What, is this..." I chuckle, shaking my head. You've got to be kidding me… "Is this you breaking up with me, or something? We don't even talk about this?"

"I think we've had enough talking," she says. "You obviously can't trust me enough to tell me about things that would affect my own life. I don't see where else it can go."

"Tali, that's not what this is…" I stop myself midsentence, sighing. This is pointless, isn't it? The relationship's been dying ever since she left, this is just the final nail in the fucking coffin. "Forget it. I figured you'd understand."

"And I figured you wouldn't keep me in the dark again."

"Then I guess neither of us knows the other quite how we thought, huh?" I ask rhetorically.

"I guess not," Tali says stubbornly. "Now if there's nothing else of vital importance you'd like to tell me, I need to get some sleep."

"At least we still have something in common, then," I reply, feeling as pissed off as I sound as I hang up the line. Unbelievable. I was expecting things to go bad, but that…fuck's sake, I realise it's hard to accept, but she can't see why I did it?

I look back at the vid call equipment, then let out a small growl of frustration and leave the room. Fine. If that's how she wants to leave things, that's totally fine by me. Things in the relationship have been going to shit ever since she left, so I suppose we had to crash somewhere. Why not here? She has the Flotilla now, her people, and that's that. I'm just the guy she had a fling with on her Pilgrimage.

I storm into the dorm, springing up onto my bunk before anyone can talk to me as I lie back and try to get comfortable. Ghost is laid down sleeping next to the bunk, but thankfully he's being quiet as I close my eyes and sigh deeply. 'I love you Tali'. What a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have ignored the signs we were drifting apart…but now that it's happened, I just feel angry. Not at myself, not really at her, just…I don't know.

I pull the covers over, snuggling against my pillow as best I can. Tomorrow's a new day, and more importantly, a new mission. I need to keep my focus.

Still, as I start to fall asleep, one thought sticks in my mind.

Fuck. I'm single.


	40. Ian vs The Warehouse

Chapter 40

Poets of the Fall: Save Me

**A/N: Having the ME wiki to hand here could actually be quite useful, since a lot of this links to Mass Effect: Ascension which some of you might not be so knowledgeable about. I'll try to cover everything as best I can, though.**

**You could also, I don't know, read Ascension. Cos it's actually quite a good book. Just a suggestion. Plus the fact you're reading a Mass Effect fanfiction does suggest you have at least a slight interest…**

**On with the chapter!**

**January 26th, 2185  
****10:16pm, Omega time  
****Warehouse, Talon district**

"You seem a bit tense today," Evan says for approximately the sixth time, as the two of us crouch behind a ventilation unit on one of the rooftops overlooking the small, two story warehouse Golo linked us to. I sigh to myself, turning my head to face the smiling merc. He's doing it to piss me off, we both know that. As much as I'd like to explode at him about breaking up with my girlfriend and it not being the best time for me, I don't want to give him the satisfaction, and the bastard already knows too much about me. My face is enough, never mind my fucking personal life.

"That's probably because I _am _tense, Evan," I reply. "You know, serial killer out there, large bounty on my head, little things like that." Even though I know Lemm's not our man…but still, blaming it on the quarian seems at least somewhat appropriate.

"Problems at home?" he asks, pushing. "Killing mercenaries stressing you out a bit too much?"

I turn around fully to face him, cracking my knuckles as I do so. "You want to check if I find killing mercs stressful?"

"Just a joke," he says, putting both his hands up as I turn around again, shaking my head. I do find the back and forth entertaining, but I'm still feeling a bit too pissed off to join in. I'm sure it'll blow over eventually, I just find myself get angry whenever I think about Tali's reaction. Though she's probably going through the exact same thing with me. Whatever. As long as she saves her dad, my conscience is clear. "Are we done yet? Golo said Lemm wasn't going to show up until tomorrow, and we've watched their patrol cycle like ten times already. I would've brought a sandwich if I'd known we'd be waiting this long. Or seven."

He does have a point, to be fair. It's been about two hours up here already, and still no sign of our quarian. Maybe he's genuinely waiting for tomorrow…though he's stupid if he is. Golo will have tipped of the mercenaries inside the warehouse, so what opposition there is now will have doubled if Lemm doesn't turn up tonight. "Feel free to go to a street vendor and buy something," I shrug, scanning the rooftops. "I'll have anything with a load of cheese on it, if you're buying."

"Something big will happen the moment I get off the roof," Evan replies.

"All the more incentive for you to go, then."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

I turn to him again, grinning under the helmet. "You seem a bit tense today, Evan." The human chuckles, stubble under his chin stretching as he smiles.

"Touché," he says, settling next to me as he grabs the sniper scope I've been using to scout the place out, staring towards the warehouse again. "They're busy in there, aren't they?" he asks rhetorically. "Especially for this time of night."

"Looks like they're getting ready for something," I say. Which they are. Golo's already dropped them the warning, after all. Plus, if I can point these things out to Evan now, it'll make it easier for him to believe Lemm isn't the quarian we're looking for.

Why did I hear that in an Obi Wan Kenobi voice?

"Golo might have warned the people in there that there's a serial killer coming," Evan suggests. Ah, perceptive about Golo, but not quite what I was after…

"From what you've told me about him, that really doesn't seem his style," I say. "Actually, what did Golo say about Lemm?"

Evan gives me an odd look, raising both eyebrows. "How do you mean?"

"Why's he coming to the warehouse?" I ask. Evan frowns at that, thinking for a few seconds before he shrugs.

"No idea," he replies. "Golo just said he'd be here. I dunno how he knew that. Or how he just happens to know Lemm's the exact person we're looking for…" The cogs are obviously beginning to turn in Evan's head. Not such a bad detective after all, then. "Why do I get the feeling I'll be asking for my thousand credits back by the time we're done here?"

"Golo's living on Omega, right?" I ask, getting a nod from Evan in reply. "So he's an outcast quarian," I explain. "That's bad news. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

"Son of a bitch," Evan mutters. "I could've bought a few nights in Afterlife with that money…and you could've mentioned this whole 'outcast' idea _before _I went to see the bastard."

"I assumed you knew," I say innocently. "Besides, we may as well follow this lead up. Maybe Lemm knows something. Or knows someone who does." Plus this means I can warn him about the Cerberus attack on the Flotilla as well as Tali, since she might not be too responsive to messages from me.

"He'd better," Evan says, still sounding annoyed about the money. "I hate having my time wasted."

"So you became a detective?" I ask, chuckling. "Half our time gets wasted running down pointless leads."

"I guess," he replies. "Still, to narrow things down, sometimes you have to-" His eyes suddenly shift, looking across a rooftop in front of us. "I just saw something. Quarian shaped." I follow his gaze…and indeed, there's a silhouette there. Obviously a male, with the distinct shape of a quarian helmet, three fingers, and leg spurs. Good man, Lemm…

"Let's go check it out," I say, drawing my pistol for appearance's sake as Evan does the same. "Don't go in guns blazing, we just want to talk to him."

"What if he tries to kill us?" Evan asks.

"Then stay calm and try to establish a dialogue," I reply sarcastically, as we move closer to the quarian, who's now crouched down and is staring across at the warehouse's roof. Evan raises an eyebrow at me as I jog. "I'm joking. If he tries to kill you, self-defence is totally fine." Course, now I've said that, I'm _praying _Lemm doesn't just open fire as soon as he sees us.

There's a ten foot drop down to the warehouse's roof, which Lemm seems ready to take just as Evan and I walk up behind him. "Hey," I say, announcing our presence as the quarian whirls around, modified Armax Arsenal shotgun up and ready. "You Lemm?"

"Who wants to know?" the quarian asks, sounding surprisingly brave for someone still on his Pilgrimage. Then again, considering he's breaking into a warehouse like this, bravery shouldn't strike me as a huge surprise. "Wait…you're Deafpool, right?" I hear Evan stifle a laugh behind me, as I roll my eyes within the helmet.

"Close enough," I say, holstering my pistol as sign of peace. "Deadpool." The shotgun's still up, though Lemm's body language suggests he's considerably more relaxed. "Golo said you were the man to talk to about the serial killer. You heard of that? People with bulging out eyes, no marks on the bodies?"

"Golo sent you?" Lemm lets out a small laugh at that. "I should've known that shipless bosh'tet would have tried something like this…let me guess. He told you I was the killer?"

Evan exchanges a look with me before he replies. "Something like that. I assume this you pleading not guilty?"

"Golo wants to get rid of me," Lemm explains, the faint outline of his eyes making contact with mine. "You protect the innocent people here?"

"That's the idea," I nod, again ignoring the small laugh from Evan.

"Then let me explain," the quarian says. "A few days ago, a quarian scout ship, the _Cyniad_, went out of radio contact. I wanted to investigate for my Pilgrimage, so I found Golo, and he told me the pilot had been captured by some humans, who took him here."

"That doesn't explain why Golo wants you dead," Evan points out.

"He helps the highest bidder, and I didn't have much," Lemm says. "I thought he might be helping the humans. He told me to be here tomorrow, but I thought I'd come early in case he warned them I was coming." He folds his arms. "He must have told you to intercept me tomorrow. How did you know to come today?"

"Just wanted to scout the place out," I shrug. Come on, Lemm, I want to help, don't blow my cover… "Look, if you're not the guy we're looking for, have you heard anything about a serial killer on Omega? Anything at all that could be useful?"

Lemm stands there for a few seconds in thought, before finally nodding. "I might know something." Sweet! "But you need to help me first." Fuck's sake!

"You want help freeing your pilot," I say, knowing it's why he's here. "If we do this, you promise to give us everything you know?"

"You have my word," Lemm nods solemnly.

"Wait, did you just sign us up to break into a warehouse?" Evan asks. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"We need to follow all our leads, right?" I ask. "But hey, if you want to go back home and get some rest…"

Evan sighs, looking at both me and the quarian. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

"Good," Lemm says, sounding pleased. Hell, considering he thought it was going to be a solo mission, I'm not surprised he's happy at the idea of having two people on his back. "We'd better get moving, then." With that, the quarian hops the lip of the roof we're on, dropping the ten feet down to the warehouse and rolling out of the landing.

"You're unbelievable," Evan says, giving me a mock-glare as he follows the quarian down.

"What?" I ask, hopping down next to him. Evan just gives a little mutter of 'getting us into stupid fucking situations' as Lemm turns on his omni-tool light, and hacks the alarm rigged to the window in a matter of seconds. Leaving the hacking to the quarian sounds about right…and I watch as he pulls out a laser cutter, and starts going through the glass, cutting a tiny hole as he leans over the lip of the roof to access the window. Damn, he's prepared!

"What's the plan here?" I ask. "Cos, I don't know about you, but I can't fit through that gap."

"Just tuck your stomach in," Evan mutters.

"I'm scouting it out," Lemm says quietly, voice strained as he reaches into a pack he's carrying over the shoulder, and pulls out a small camera. "Just charging in blind never works."

"Speak for yourself," I chuckle, thinking of all the times the exact opposite's happened for me, as the young quarian feeds the camera in and opens up his omni-tool to view the feed. There's a long corridor, with several doors on either side of it, presumably for storage, and a table at the end with a couple of guards playing cards. What is it with guards and card games? Everywhere you go, they're always doing something like that. It's the future, for fuck's sake, there's nothing else?

"Alright," I say, kneeling down next to the quarian. "If you hold my legs, I can lean over and snipe both those guards. Then we can slowly open the window, get in there, and check out those storage rooms."

"They're holding cells," Lemm corrects me. "I can see the security feed from the monitors those guards are sitting next to. And I have a better idea for getting in there." As he says that, he closes the omni-tool, and slips down from the building so he's standing on the window ledge, and braces himself against the window.

"Uh, mate, what're you-" I start to ask, but Lemm hurls himself through it before I can react, shattering of glass actually drowned out by the sound of four rapid shotgun blasts from inside.

"Damn," is all Evan says, as I quickly clamber down and through the window, to see the quarian already fiddling with the door controls. The two guards lie dead at the end of the hallway, one splayed out over the table, and the other on the floor, face frozen in his last pained expression with both hands on his stomach.

"Are you sure you need our help?" I ask, jogging along and standing next to Lemm as he starts working through one of the doors as Evan follows behind. "Because, whatever that was, I mean…wow."

"We only just got in," Lemm says, as the door control turns green and he readies his hand against it. "I'll need your help for getting out." The quarian presses his hand against the door control, causing it to open up…and reveal an average sized human women laid on the floor, her most notable feature being shoulder length blonde hair.

Kahlee Sanders.

With her is a young girl, who seems quite tall for her age, presumably Gillian Grayson. Next to her, there's male human, well muscled with light brown skin, coupled with short brown hair. Must be her security guy, who's name I can't fucking remember…

"Are you Kahlee Sanders?" Lemm says, as she pulls her head up and looks at three of us with a mixture of surprise and alarm, rising to her feet. Oh, here we go…long story short, Kahlee was involved with Saren pre Mass Effect 1, the quarians are interested in Saren because he was able to control the geth…and by extension, Kahlee's important. Lemm probably can't believe his luck right now, considering she's basically the best thing a quarian could return from their Pilgrimage with.

And Gillian Grayson. An exceptionally gifted biotic child with autism, who Cerberus want to experiment on to advance biotics. Going to this much trouble pretty much shows how much they want her.

Nothing like endearing myself to my future employer by fucking up one of their operations, is there?

Lemm's going to go through a whole load of exposition with them about getting out that I really don't care for, though…and we're going to need some kind of escape vehicle to make it out of here. If memory serves, there's a rover we can use for that exact purpose downstairs.

"Lemm," I say, as Kahlee pulls Gillian and the security guy up. Hendel! That's his name. "You make sure they're ready to move out. Evan and I'll go downstairs and try to work out an escape route."

"Got it," the quarian nods, turning to the three humans as Evan and I make our way back along the corridor…leading into a set of branching off corridors. That's some fantastic building design right there.

"Shit, where do we go…"

"Most buildings I've been in, the way out is usually on the ground floor," Evan suggests sarcastically. "So maybe we should go downstairs?"

"You're one of a kind, aren't you?" I mutter, as we advance slowly down a random corridor I chose. They'll have to loop to the stairs eventually, right? The people in here almost certainly heard that window smash, and Lemm's shotgun fire…so we're going to have people crawling all over us soon. They're probably getting ready to ambush us right now.

"My mother used to tell me that," Evan replies, clutching his pistol as we both reach a corner. "I don't think she meant it as a compliment."

"Neither do I," I say, moving around and into a dull, grey coloured box of a hallway that the two of us walk down. Most of the doors are open, showing fuel cells scattered around, and other supplies. Looks like a load of storage rooms…so this is probably the wrong way. Ah, fuck. "We should probably try another one," I suggest.

"Good idea," Evan nods, turning around…just as one of the doors opens, and a male human steps out, doing up his fly. Well, they obviously keep the toilet up here, too. The human looks at both of us, then quickly fumbles on his belt, trying to reach for the pistol holstered there. Oh no you don't!

I dash forward, hitting close to my full speed in the five steps it takes to reach the guy, then I jump and push both my legs out in front of me, catching the mook square in the face and knocking him to the floor with a loud crash, where he lies still. "I will kick you to sleep!" I crow triumphantly, getting to my feet and turning to look back at Evan…until my eyes gets caught on one of the fuel cells. Which appears to be on fire. And Evan's holding a smoking gun in his hands. "What the fuck did you do?"

"I tried to shoot him!" Evan exclaims. "That's what you do when an enemy appears! I barely moved my aim out of the way of you, then I hit the fuel cells instead!"

I look back at the cell, which is now leaking fuel onto the floor, which subsequently catches fire as it leaks and begins spreading out into the corridor in front of us. Oh, shit! "Could you not have shot something less flammable?" I say, running forward and trying to stamp on the flames, which just manages to get fuel onto my foot. Which also sets on fire, until it goes out from me frantically kicking it against a wall. "Like a wall?"

"It was either there, or in the back of your head!" Evan shouts, jumping over the flames as the two of us jog back down the corridor. "I know which one I'd have preferred in your position! Besides, it's not even spreading that bad-"

A sudden explosion rocks the hallway, causing the two of us to stagger as I look back…and see the end of the corridor transformed into a raging inferno, now that every single other fuel cell's gone off. Oh, and the walls of this place aren't flame retardant, meaning everything else is going up too. PERFECT. "So much for it not spreading that bad!" I say, breaking into a sprint away from the encroaching flames as Evan runs next to me, panting. Sucks for the guy I had to knock out…but going back to save him isn't happening. "You really had to go and say that?"

As we dash out into the main corridor again, we practically run straight into Lemm and the others. The quarian's carrying Gillian, Kahlee's snagged herself an assault rifle, and Hendel looks doped out of his mind, considering how he's staggering around. "What was that explosion?" Kahlee asks urgently. Evan and I exchange looks.

"It was his fault," we both say at the same time.

"He shot the fuel cells they were keeping up there in storage," I explain.

"Only because you jumped in my fucking way," Evan responds.

Kahlee glares at us both, before sighing and shaking her head. Well, at least we didn't get a lecture… "We need to find a vehicle and get out of here," she says, as Lemm nods his agreement. Hendel sort of stands there, swaying.

"That's what we were trying to do," I say, as Lemm heads to the front of the group and ushers us down the stairs as quickly as possible as flames totally consume the corridor we were in before, and start lighting everywhere else behind us too. Well, no going back…

"Nice job," Kahlee replies. Ooh, harsh! I can feel the heat on my back as we pound downstairs and through winding corridors. Lemm and I, being the two people with proper armour, take point, pistol and shotgun pointing forward through the maze as we descend towards the garage. There's no resistance, even by the time we reach the stairs to the ground floor and move across a small landing which leads into the garage, and the four of us stops.

The sound of crackling flames mingles through the air, as I cautiously look into the garage, and groan when I see that the roof's on fire. The fuel cells were probably right above this room…and the air's becoming progressively more smoky. Considering Evan, Kahlee and Gillian don't have helmets to filter clean air…we need to move fast.

"They'll be waiting to ambush us," Lemm says, as Kahlee coughs, covering her mouth with a sleeve. The quarian points to one of the two rovers parked in the middle of the garage, which as storage crates scattered all around it. Perfect cover for all the guards I can guarantee will be waiting for us. Fun. "We need to get one of those rovers if we're going to get out of here."

Said rover doesn't appear to have any weapons on it, but thick armour plating guarantees safety…at least provided no-one busts out a rocket launcher. I'll take that chance, though. "I can grab that," I say. "Tactical cloak. If you distract the guards, I'll hop in and drive up to our position. Then we drive through the garage doors and get out of here."

"Drive through the doors, right," Evan says cynically. "They're solid metal. Getting past that isn't as simple as driving into it."

Ah, Evan, if only you'd read Ascension… "If you want to try walking out the front door, feel free," I say. Evan glares at me, but doesn't offer up any disagreement.

"As soon as you're ready, go," Lemm says, as I open up my omni-tool, getting ready to activate the cloak as I look behind us…and see flames licking at the exterior walls of the room we're in. Bad bad bad…

Without letting myself think about the dangers, I activate the cloak and run out into the wide open area. The boxes have obviously been set up by the mercs expecting company, due to the maze like quality they give the place. Fortunately, it gives me plenty of areas to hide and recharge the shields. Setting my eyes on a load of crates halfway between me and a rover, I run as Lemm, Evan and Kahlee break out and into cover, spraying bullets around the room and drawing mercenary attention to them.

I slide down behind the crate as I rematerialise, keeping low as the power recharges. I take a quick glance out, seeing a human woman near the rover…but her back's turned. I can take her out quietly, then get in the rover and drive up to the others, everyone else hops in, and away we go! I try to ignore the flaming roof as I spring up again, cloaking but keeping on the balls of my feet as I approach the human, bringing my knife out. Get behind, put it up and through her throat –

A sudden screech of metal makes me look up at the roof, just in time to see a large patch of fire collect in the area above me…and then, the roof there just gives way. I back roll away, narrowly avoiding falling plaster and flames at impacts with a loud crash. The human woman whirls around as I get up on one knee, just in time for both of us to watch fuel cells fall from the gap in the roof. Son of a bitch, that's the storage area Evan and I were in.

The cells hit the floor, immediately catching fire.

Well, I know where this is going.

BOOM.

With a yell, I'm thrown back from my crouched position and onto the floor, flames erupting out and completely blocking off my path. "Shit, that's just great," I groan, rolling back, placing my hands behind my shoulders and springing to my feet…as I notice I can see my hands. And from the look on the human woman's face, she can too. The two of us stare at each other, then both draw our pistols and start firing as I dive behind a small crate to my left. For fuck's sake, this is all Evan's fault!

I look back over, in time to see Lemm advance around the side of a tall stack of boxes and shotgun a mercenary in the back before he presses himself against another one rapidly, working his way towards me. Kahlee seems happy enough with Evan towards the entrance, as Hendel and Gillian stay behind the two of them. I reach a hand around the corner, blindfiring my pistol in the vague direction of the female guard to suppress her, then look to see if she's still out in the open. Ah, I forced her into cover, perfect!

I burst into a sprint away, altering my route to go around the flames as I instinctively raise a hand to protect myself from the heat. It only takes five seconds to get to the rover's passenger door, which I fling open, hurl myself into and shut behind me, shuffling across into the drivers seat and looking down at the controls.

Which is when the biggest flaw in the plan hits me.

I've got no idea how to drive.

The sounds of battle raging, flames licking at the garage and bullets flying are still distractingly loud as I look down. Alright, there's two pedals, so the one on the right is probably the accelerator and the left is the brake…and no clutch, so it's an automatic. There's a button on the control panel simply reading 'DRIVE', so I guess I should press that?

I do, and the engine roars into life, making me jump as I look out the windscreen to see the human women turn her attention to the suddenly moving rover and empty a clip of assault rifle ammo into it, the bullets simply pinging off. I grin, revving the accelerator as I reach to my right and disengage the handbrake.

Which makes me hurtle backwards ten metres before I can stop, ploughing the back of the rover straight into the wall and causing me to painfully jolt forward in my seat at the crash. Fuck, stupid thing's still in reverse. The dramatic crash seems to have attracted more attention, and the amount of bullets hitting seems to roughly treble as I look around the control panel frantically. How do I make it go forward? Traction control, music settings, air conditioning…gears!

I press the button to shift out of reverse, then gun the engine again, clutching the wheel for dear life as I spring forward and flatten the human women as I head towards the wall on the opposite side of the garage. Fuck fuck fuck! I try to slam on the brakes, which mercifully manages to make the impact less painful, but admittedly still jarring, as I crash into that wall too. Driving sucks!

Half the garage is on fire now, as I try to set the car into reverse and press down on the accelerator. The rover does a little jump, then stops as a warning light comes on. Did I just stall? In an automatic? How do people do this shit?

The passenger door is suddenly flung open, and I whirl around with my pistol in one hand…to see Lemm climb in. "Maybe I should drive?" the young quarian asks.

"I think that's a good idea," I nod, clambering into the passenger seat as he sits down, restarts the engine and expertly manoeuvres us back to the position Kahlee and Evan are holding. I reach back and hurl the doors open for them, letting the Kahlee and Evan hop in, helping Gillian and Hendel in as they slam the door behind them and Lemm brings us around to face the metal doors. Bullets still ping off the armour in rapid succession, but we'll be safe for the fifty metre straight run up we have to the solid metal door leading out.

Without warning, Lemm launches the rover towards it, accelerating rapidly as impact looms only a few seconds away. "Everyone hold on!" Kahlee yells, and I grab onto the seat in front of me…and have the breath knocked my lungs as I flung into it by the impact, the crash reverberating through my whole body and leaving me dazed as the door screeches and buckles…but doesn't give way. Lemm keeps the accelerator going, making the tires scream as the door bucks from the force, beginning to make a tiny opening…

"Oh, shit, rocket launcher!" Evan shouts, picking himself up and looking out the tiny rear view as I follow his line of sight. A human man, short and stocky, has somehow managed to find a safe spot among all the flames surrounding him, and he's clutching a rocket launcher tightly.

Well, if memory serves, Paul Grayson, Gillian's dad and full time Cerberus operative and red sand addict, should be in here somewhere too, captured at the same time Kahlee and Hendel were, since he was taking Gillian to Cerberus after their experiments at the Ascension project were revealed. Considering he was taking his own daughter to be experimented on, it's not that surprising it somehow slipped Kahlee's mind to mention him to us. He should get free, though, and take out the rocket guy…

A rocket suddenly streaks towards us, narrowly missing and exploding on the wall next to the rover as the man prepares another shot. I doubt he'll miss this time…come on, where the fuck is Paul?

Then it hits me. The building wasn't on fire in Ascension…which may have complicated Paul's escape. And I'm talking the lethal kind of complication.

Did Evan and I kill Paul Grayson?

"You've got a sniper rifle!" Evan screams at me, before I can consider all the canonical effects that might have. "Don't just stand there, fucking shoot him!"

I spring into action, pushing open the passenger door and leaning out as my sniper rifle unfolds, and I lift the scope to my eye. I line up the sight, but the first shot goes wide. Fuck, I'm still dazed from the crash…the second flies wide too, as the man hefts the rifle onto his shoulder and preps the shot again.

Third time's the charm. I get him in the chest, making the human fall back as Lemm finally gets the gap in the door big enough for us to fit through. Suddenly, we're bursting through, almost making me fall out of the rover at the sudden shift in pace, the sound of the engine roaring through Omega's night as we speed away from the burning building.

I fall back onto the floor, gasping as Evan lets out a nervous laugh, slapping me on the shoulder and falling down next to me. "We made it," he gasps. "Holy shit."

"Yeah," I say, the horrible thought that I may have killed off one of the Mass Effect series biggest characters rolling around in my head. "Holy shit just about covers it."

########

Lemm keeps the rover going for about ten minutes, getting us safely away from the Talon district. He slowed down the crazy driving once it became apparent we weren't being followed, until finally getting close enough to where he must be keeping his ship to feel comfortable about leaving the rover. Some lucky bastard'll be able to pick it up for free.

All six of us gather outside it. Hendel looks like he's recovered a bit, while Kahlee and Lemm both seem fatigued, but fine. Gillian just looks totally out of it, not a care in the world as she looks at Lemm with a smile. "Thanks," Lemm finally says, stepping forward to shake my hand, then Evan's. "You held up your side of the bargain, so I should hold up mine. The Flotilla passed by Omega about a month ago, and I heard that we dropped off an exile. The Admiralty tried to keep it quiet, but there were these rumours that someone in the medical ships had been experimenting with viruses, trying to map them to specific gene types. I was just grateful he'd been caught. Things like that endanger the whole Flotilla."

"Yeah, and now he's endangering Omega instead," I reply, shaking my head at the quarian exile system. It doesn't deal with the problem, it just passes it onto other people… "You know his name?"

"No," Lemm replies regretfully. "Like I said, I only heard the rumours. It didn't really concern me at the time."

"It's better than nothing," Evan shrugs. "Not sure if it was worth putting myself in that much danger for, but thanks anyway."

"I can try and get the name to you from the Flotilla," Lemm suggests hopefully. "But the Admiralty might block me from finding out."

I sigh quietly behind my helmet. I know someone who's in a good position to check for me…even if she probably doesn't want to talk to me after last night. I'd rather avoid it too, but we need to stop a serial killer. That's bigger than any awkwardness between me and Tali. "Don't worry about it, I've got people who can find out." We all stand for a few seconds, until I feel inclined to break the silence. "Sorry about not being able to find your pilot."

"So am I," Lemm replies. "But this still turned out better than I could have hoped." A concerned look flickers across Kahlee's face when he says that, though I'm not surprised. If a random quarian I'd never met knew all about me, I'd be concerned too. "Good luck with finding your serial killer. And you said you talked to Golo?"

"Yeah," Evan nods. "What about him?"

"Golo makes a point of knowing everything there is to know," Lemm explains. "So he probably knows more about this serial killer than he's letting on. Just some advice."

"Thanks for helping us, too," Kahlee suddenly says, stepping forward and giving an awkward smile, as Hendel does the same.

"Just doing my job," I say.

"Just following him," Evan chuckles.

"We need to get moving," Lemm says, making Kahlee and Hendel look back towards him. "They could have people out on the streets looking for the ones who caused the warehouse fire."

"Then you should get moving," I nod. Then a sudden thought hits me. I've warned Tali about the Ascension stuff, and I can reiterate that warning…but she's not in as unique a position as Lemm. Plus he's actually on speaking terms. "Lemm, can I talk to you in private? Just for a second?"

The quarian's obviously torn, then indicates behind the rover. "One second." The two of us step into the relative privacy, as I quickly lock my line of sight with his and take a deep breath.

"The girl you're with is called Gillian Grayson," I explain. "She's a valuable Cerberus asset, and they'll be able to work out where you've gone soon enough. Golo'll tell them, and help them get to the Flotilla."

"What are you-" Lemm tries to say, before I cut him off.

"They're going to attack the _Idenna,_" I say firmly. Even if we did end up killing Grayson back there, The Illusive Man isn't going to let Gillian go that easily. "You understand? You need to be prepared."

"How do you know that?" Lemm asks, sounding surprised…and suspicious.

"Because I know a lot of stuff that a lot of people would rather I didn't," I say cryptically. "Now, go on. You need to leave. Just make sure you're ready."

The quarian doesn't even reply, but he keeps looking at me as he walks away, his body language unsure even as he sets off at a jog with Kahlee, Hendel and Gillian following him. I'm not sure if he believes me…but at least that's two people I've warned. The more prepared the Flotilla is, the better.

"What was that about?" Evan asks, walking over to me as he tries to straighten out his charred suit.

"Just giving him some friendly advice," I mutter. "Nice job back there, by the way. Except for burning the place down."

"Which was your fault."

"Bullshit."

"Whatever," Evan shrugs, grinning. "I'm not having this argument again. And what's this about you having sources who can check that quarian's name?"

"You don't stay in my line of work without picking up a few contacts," I say. Hopefully that sounded as badass as I thought it did. "You see if you can find Golo. I'm going to go back to base, check my sources, and then meet up with you. Sound like a plan?"

"Sounds like a plan," he nods, turning to look down the alleyway we parked in. "Let's get this bastard."

I try to think of some clever reply, but nothing springs to mind, so I just turn and set off running in the vague direction of the base, looking for a way up onto the rooftops.

Finally, a solid lead. But at what canonical cost? Evan and I may have killed Paul Grayson, and I already interfered with Morinth on this case…but I'm in a bit too deep to turn back now.

We're taking this fucker down. Let's just hope I don't have to change anything else to get there.

**A/N: Another update. Woooooooo!**

**Not long left on this case now. Or the story as a whole, actually, I think there's…two cases left? Which means we're looking at fifteen/twenty chapters. Rough estimate. I hope. Still got so much to cover, plot twists, drama, romance, excitement, it's all there!**

**Anyway, the serial killer case finally begins to draw to a close next chapter. Hopefully it'll be out quick too, haha.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you next time!**


	41. Ian vs The Exile

Chapter 41

The Hoosiers: Worried About Ray

It only takes twenty minutes or so to get back to the base, which is deathly quiet as I walk in. Not that it's too surprising it's in this state. After the whole warehouse fiasco, it's pretty much gone midnight. If I had any sense, I'd be going to sleep myself, instead of trying to hunt down a serial killer. The needs of the many come before my own needs, though. I might feel bad now, but I don't even want to think about what I'd feel like if more people got killed because I wanted a nap.

I try to roll my shoulders to work out the muscles, feeling my ribs ache with a dull pain every time I breathe. With all the post-mission adrenaline, I didn't notice how bad the rover crashes hurt, but now every ache and pain seems to have flared up at once. I could wake Monteague up and see if he can help out…but I might not have time, and that'll lead to awkward questions. Evan's not going to take a break before finding Golo, and I can't take a break until I get the name we need.

I open my omni-tool, highlighting Tali's name as the message's recipient as I begin to type, sighing. She might be mad at me, but Tali's not going to withhold information that could help stop a serial killer. That's not like her. I hope.

_Look, Tali, I need a hand._

That sounds desperate, like I'm running back to her. Fuck, why am I in the position where it sounds as if I'm making an apology?

_Something's come up, you need to help._

That's a bit emotionless. Yeah, we broke up, but…that's not an immediate licence to be a dick about it. Especially when I'm trying to get her to help me.

_I appreciate that I'm the last person you want to talk to right now, but you remember the serial killer case I'm involved in? _

That's better. Straight to the point, without being rude or sounding like an apology. _Some new information just came to light about our main suspect. Apparently the Flotilla dropped an exile off on Omega about a month ago, a medical scientist who was playing around viruses, matching them to specific gene types. I need you to try and get his name. _I consider for a second. _Please. _

I press send before I can second-guess myself about the message's impact again, retracting my helmet and scrunching up my nose at the sudden smell of smoke that assails me. Ugh, running through a burning building won't have done me any good there.

I take a seat in the kitchen, resting my arms and head on the large table as the other twelve chairs stare emptily at me. I swear, this case is going to break me if I don't break it first. Plus this shit is almost certainly coming around to bite me in the ass later. I doubt Samara's going to be baking me a cake for my efforts with Morinth, and Paul Grayson…I dunno. The guy was a Cerberus pawn, and TIM must've had bigger plans for him. Maybe I did him a favour. Or maybe I screwed us all over later. We'll just have to wait and see now.

My omni-tool pings, and I lift my head up to look at Tali's reply.

_Zel'Aenik nar Helash._

That's it. Well, she's not wasting words, but at least it's what I needed. I quickly type back my thanks, sending the message away as I stand up and move to the fridge. I feel fucking parched after the burning warehouse. There's no-one around, so a Tupari would be nice…but it's not going to help my thirst, so I reach for water, glaring at the bright orange bottle.

"That better not be Tupari," Melanis says, half-jokingly. I turn around to face the turian, letting out a sharp breath in surprise that makes my ribs hurt as I show her the bottle of water. Where the hell did she come from?

"Not likely," I chuckle, closing the fridge door behind me and sitting down at the table, trying not to show any of the dull pain I'm feeling. "Every time I get close to a Tupari, I expect a bullet through the back of my head from you."

"So you've finally learned," she says, sitting down next to me. "Though I'm wondering why you're even up this late."

"The serial killer case is picking up," I say, answering vaguely to try and throw her off. "Sometimes detective work means you stay up late. Criminals don't usually do office hours."

"Alright, I'll buy that," she nods. "Now the question becomes what the hell happened to you?"

Fuck, she must've noticed that I'm hurting… "What're you talking about?" I ask, trying to look and sound surprised.

The turian narrows her eyes at me, flexing her mandibles in annoyance. Well, she ain't buying that excuse… "Do you think I'm stupid, Ian? You know what I'm talking about."

"Well, you should see the other guy," I reply, forcing a grin as I sip the water. Take the hint, Mel, back off…

"If you look like that, I'm wondering if you actually won," she says sarcastically. I haven't looked in a mirror when I got back, so presumably I must have a fair few bruises from crashing the rover to make her say that. This gets better and better, doesn't it? Her tone shifts to seriousness as she locks eyes with me. "Come on, Ian, stop playing around. What actually happened?"

"I was going between leads and I fucked up a jump," I say, without batting an eyelid. I should be worried I'm this good a liar, shouldn't I? "Wasn't that big a fall, I'm fine." I smile at her. "Though I appreciate you being all worried about me."

"If it was a botched jump, why do you smell like smoke?" she asks suspiciously. Fuck, the fire. Thanks Evan!

"I was in the industrial area," I say, inwardly cringing at how bad an excuse that is. "There's always something burning around there."

"I don't think you'd smell like that unless you actively ran through a fire," Melanis says.

"Well, you're obviously wrong," I shrug.

The turian stays silent for a moment, then leans in closer to me, looking at my armour. "I'm also pretty sure these are scorch marks."

"What do you want me to say, Mel?" I snap, feeling my temper fray as the excuses begin to run dry. "I fell near some fire, I must've picked it up then, alright?"

"I'd like you to tell me the truth, but barring that, at least come up with a better lie," she smirks, causing her mandibles to give a small twitch.

"You're fucking paranoid," I sigh, desperately trying to change the subject. "What're you doing up so late, anyway?"

"You're the last one in," she says, looking away slightly. "I always make sure everyone's back before going to sleep."

"Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I've never noticed you doing that before."

"You're not usually the last one back."

"Who's lying now, huh?"

"You are, considering you've still not told me what you were doing," Melanis says dryly.

Fuck, why did I bring up the subject of lying? "I did," I insist.

Her mandibles widen in a smile. "You actually lied. Badly, I might add." She pauses for a few seconds. "This isn't a game you can win, Ian."

"I can't play the game if it doesn't exist," I retort.

"You just haven't bothered to learn the rules."

"You offering to teach me?"

"If you come clean with me, we'll see."

"I've told you the truth," I say firmly. "I can craft some wonderfully exciting story if you want, though. Will that make you happy?"

"Ecstatic," Melanis replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I helped save a kid from a building fire," I say, matching her voice for sarcasm despite the fact I'm telling the truth. "It was really dramatic and shit. There were explosions and everything."

"What a wonderful story." Wow, I didn't think she could sound any more snarky, but she pulled it off. "So where are you headed to now?"

"I've got a contact to meet, hopefully we can get the killer's location." I smile, chuckling. "If I told you anymore, I'd have to kill you."

Melanis calmly returns the smile. "I'd love to see you try."

"We'll have to arrange a sparring match sometime, then."

"Sounds like a plan." Fuck, I hope she doesn't hold me to that. The turian pauses again, looking at me hesitantly. "Remember, I'm here to help if you need it."

"And remember, I already said I appreciate the offer," I say. "But I'll be fine."

"You sure as hell don't look fine," she points out.

"Looks can be deceptive," I shrug.

Melanis sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Why are you blocking me out, Ian? I thought you'd love having someone help you with this case."

Aww, shit, Mel's actually trying to be nice and I'm kicking her back. I can't let her come with me…but I could at least be a bit more gentle. I lean forward closer to her, giving a genuine smile. "I'm not blocking you out. But detective work needs training, Melanis. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I just work better alone for this kind of thing. I love that you want to help, though."

"If I'm not mistaken, this is your first solo case. Every other time you've had Garrus," Melanis says.

"Yeah, it is," I nod. "Gotta start taking responsibility somewhere though, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. I just think—and don't take this the wrong way—that you're in a bit over your head for a first solo mission."

I frown at her. So much for being nice… "What's that supposed to mean?" I suddenly smirk, looking away as I realise what she means. I'm not good enough to go out on my own. "Course. Am I ever gonna be ready in your eyes, Mel?"

Melanis just smirks at me too. "Probably not. But who knows? You seem full of surprises."

"I guess that's supposed to be a compliment?"

"Sure. Let's go with that."

We're silent for a few moments, just looking at each other, until I down my water and stand up. "Well, I need to get going. Nice talk we had here. You calling me a liar and all. We should do this more often."

Melanis suddenly gets up too, grabbing my arm in the grip of a strong talon as I look back at her. "Wait. Just...just don't get killed." Uh…what? "I don't want to have to train someone new," she says, trying to give a laugh.

I stare at her for a few seconds, before giving a small laugh of my own. "Well, what do you know. You do give a damn."

"I just hate the thought of training someone else more than I do you," she explains hurriedly.

"Please," I chuckle. "No-one can replace me."

Melanis finally lets go of my arm, smiling at my words. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

"Oh, you know it's true," I grin. "See you later, Melanis."

"Good luck, Ian," she says, turning to head to her room as I head out the front of the house, opening my omni-tool as I cross the bridge into the residential area, depths of Omega stretched out below me as I type a message to Evan.

_I've got a name. Zel'Aenik nar Helash. Where are you?_

I only have to wait a few seconds for the reply.

_I've found Golo. I'm sending his location to you, but he's not going to wait forever, so you might want to hurry it up. _I check the mail attachment, the blinking light showing Golo's location just outside the Talon district. Probably waiting to see the result of the warehouse fire. If I move quick, that should take me fifteen minutes.

Good. I've always wanted a little chat with Golo.

#########

"Took you long enough," Evan mutters, as I press myself against the wall next to him at the entrance to a small, three storey block of apartments Golo has his place in. It's like most buildings in Omega; grey, dirty, and on the brink of falling down. At least the rent's cheap.

"You'd have said that no matter how long I took," I reply cynically. "What's the plan?"

"I told Golo that we'd taken care of Lemm, and that I wanted to see him again," Evan explains. "At first he refused, then I offered him five thousand credits, which miraculously gave him an opening on his schedule."

"Funny that," I chuckle.

"He'll be suspicious why I'm back here, though," Evan says.

"Turn on the charm, say you missed him," I say teasingly. "I can run and get a bottle of wine for you, if you want."

"Fuck me, you just get funnier every day, don't you?" he replies sarcastically. "Golo's only expecting me, we can use that to our advantage. He'll let me in, so you can follow behind me, cloaked. We can surprise him that way."

"He already lied to us once, so we need to put the screws on him," I nod. "Got it."

"He already knows me, but you have a reputation," Evan points out. "We can use that. As far as he knows, you'll kill him if you have to."

"I thought I had a merciful reputation," I say.

"You do," he nods. "That doesn't mean you wouldn't kill someone if you had to, though."

"I guess," I nod. "Alright. Let's do this." Evan opens the door into a dark reception, with only one flickering light illuminating the supposedly white walls, though a thin layer of grime makes that colour questionable as we walk across hard plastic floor and into a corridor of doors. "Which room's Golo in?"

"Last door on the right," Evan says, reaching said door and getting ready to knock. "Do your thing, tech boy."

Rolling my eyes, I set off the cloak as Evan knocks and the door slides open for him. Golo's apartment is a simple affair, mainly due to the fact it's only one room. Small table and chair next to a mini-kitchen, with a bed on one side, and a door which presumably leads to a bathroom. There's a few datapads scattered about, and a holographic screen set up on the wall across from the bed.

Oh, and Golo himself, who's sat by the kitchen table pointing a pistol at Evan. "Always nice to see you, Golo," Evan says calmly, as I creep around him and towards the quarian.

"I'm a suspicious man, Evan," Golo says, his voice just as calm, yet more menacing since he's the guy with the drawn gun. "So when I give someone information, and they come back without any explanation, it makes me _very _suspicious. Want to start explaining?"

"See, here's the issue," Evan says, clicking his fingers like the thought just hit him. "The information you gave us was utter bullshit."

"'We'?" Golo asks, sounding surprised. "Who's we?"

I choose that time to appear, snatching the gun before he can react and turning it on him. "Hello, mate," I say cheerily. May as well go for the unhinged, unpredictable approach on this one as best I can. Cheerful people in dangerous situations are surprisingly scary. "Carnifex handgun. Nice. You know, these things punch really good holes in exo-suits. So I've heard."

"Lemm isn't a killer, Golo," Evan says, walking over and sitting on the table in front of the quarian, who's not moving as I point the pistol at him. "He was just a kid trying to help his friend. So either you _really _fucked up with your information, which I doubt, or you're withholding something. Guess which one seems more likely to me?"

"You were supposed to shoot him, not talk to him," Golo hisses in frustration.

"Too bad plans don't always work out how we want them to," I say, pressing the gun into the arm of his suit. "Now, a guy in your criminal position, you're probably familiar with how torture works." I've got no intention of torturing him, of course, but Golo's a coward. Once he realises he can't worm his way out of this, he'll tell us what we want to know.

_What if he doesn't?_

The thought hits me, niggling away in the back of my mind as I try to get rid of it. We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. "You're right, I do," Golo nods. "But you don't want to do that, Leadpool. You're not the type."

"Deadpool. And if we were in public, you'd be right," I nod. "But it's just the three of us, Golo. How I act in public, and how I am in private, they're two very different things entirely." Evan's actually looking impressed as I press the pistol barrel against Golo's mask, forcing his head back as I push harder and harder. "Archangel needs someone on his team that the people can trust. But I've always been itching to give a bastard like you the treatment he deserves…"

"We've got the killer's name. Zel'Aenik nar Helash. You want to tell us about him?" Evan asks.

"Look, I don't know any quarian called Zel," Golo says quickly. "I set you on Lemm to solve my own problem. I'm sorry. Do you want your credits back? Is that it?"

"That's pathetic, Golo, even for you," Evan says, sitting further forward on the table and locking eyes with the quarian. "Why are you covering for the killer?"

"I'm not covering for anyone," Golo insists. I press the gun into his arm again, flicking the safety off loudly. "I'm not!"

"You want to know what I think, Golo?" Evan says, leaning forward so his face is practically pressing against the quarian's mask. "Everyone knows you're a criminal fixer on this planet. So, I reckon Zel came to you for supplies to continue his viral experiments, and you got them for him. But you knew what he was trying, didn't you?" The quarian squirms in his chair. "You saw the research tools, saw the viruses, everything. Bet he paid a lot for that, didn't he?" Golo doesn't reply. "But you wanted more. So when he paid up, you made him pay extra for protection. So no-one would be able to find him. And since you haven't just given him up yet, he must be paying you on a…weekly basis? Monthly basis? You're just holding out so you can get more cash?"

I almost lose focus on holding the gun to Golo once Evan finishes talking. That was…amazing. Makes perfect sense.

I'd totally have worked that out too, though. He just said it first.

"Answer the questions, Golo," I snarl. The quarian looks between us, but the way his body slumps show he's finally realised he's not getting out. Time to cut his losses and make it out alive. He's not going to endure even the tiniest amount of pain for Zel, he cares too much about himself.

"You're better at this than I thought, Evan," Golo finally says, with a chuckle that sounds vaguely evil. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Anything you know about him," I say.

"He came here a month ago, he wanted supplies to carry out experiments, and he knew to come to me," the quarian explains. "He paid in full, I didn't ask questions. Then when I saw what he wanted…it seemed like dangerous stuff. Viral containers, diseases I'd never heard of, tools for genetic modification. I thought he had something to hide, and I called him on it. Made him agree to pay two thousand every month for me not to give him up."

You've got to be kidding me… "You protected a serial killer for two thousand a month? Are you fucking serious?"

"I always knew you were a bastard, Golo," Evan mutters. "Never knew you were this bad, though."

"Cry me a river," Golo replies. "He paid. And the stuff he's working on only affects humans, I don't care whether he succeeds or not."

I'm about to launch into a rant, then stop when he says the thing about humans. "What are you talking about?"

The pause before Golo replies shows he realises he's landed himself in the shit. "It's what he's working on. He tried to convince me he was doing it for good reasons to make me stop charging him for protection, that was his excuse."

Son of a bitch. If it was a virus, he could've spread it through the ventilation system in the industrial area where those Blue Suns guys died. And all the victims have been humans…meaning he's been checking if his modified virus works. They could well have been with an asari, and just dropped dead once they inhaled it. She'd have ran away in fear, and we're left with two human corpses, and one unharmed asari who's long gone by now. The look on Evan's face shows he's come to the exact same conclusion.

"Where is he?" I demand, turning my fury onto Golo. This fucker's been hiding him from justice this whole time! The quarian doesn't reply, so I lift my leg up and kick him hard in the chest, knocking him back off the chair and onto the floor as I point the pistol at him, and Evan places a foot on his stomach. "Where?"

"Near the Cicesse Markets," Golo hisses. "Block six on the left side, apartment 23."

"You're a disgrace," I say, standing back, taking the thermal clip from the pistol and tossing it to the side as Evan steps off. "Letting this happen for money. You realise how bad this makes quarians look, too? People barely trust them already!"

"The Fleet threw me out," Golo shrugs. "I stopped caring about quarian image when that happened."

I sigh in frustration, looking down at the quarian before I turn my back and head to the door. He's not worth the breath it takes to talk to him. I go through and down the corridor back towards the entrance. "I can't believe that guy," I mutter to Evan. Huh? I turn around…and the mercenary isn't with me. "Evan? Where are-"

There's a sudden bang that sounds like a gunshot, though it's muffled by the door to Golo's room. A few seconds later, Evan walks out, holstering his pistol and giving me a nod. "Alright. Let's get going."

I hold up a hand, standing in front of him. "Whoa, hold on. Did you just kill him? Isn't he a Blue Suns contact?"

"I was kind of hoping you'd do it," he replies. "But yeah." I fold my arms at him. "Oh, come on. He was covering up for a serial killer, and he'd do the same thing if anyone else gave him the money. He fixed murderers with supplies, almost got us killed. I wouldn't be surprised if he led a fucking search party after Lemm. I'm not keeping a contact who does things like that. We can't arrest him, so what else could we do? Let him keep doing this?"

As much as I want a reason to get mad at Evan for this…he has a really good point. I can't think of a single decent reason why he shouldn't have shot Golo. His death could save many more lives, and canonically…all this does is make it harder for Cerberus to reach the _Idenna_. Oh noes. "A little warning next time might be nice," I say, turning and walking with him out the front of the apartment building.

Wait a second…if this virus is released via gas, one place to target springs to mind straight away. Mordin's clinic. If the vorcha can find the ventilation area, what's to stop our quarian? "I need to make a call," I say to Evan, tapping him on the shoulder and opening my omni-tool. "I just thought of somewhere that might be a prime target if Zel wants to release that virus."

"Make it quick," Evan says, but walks a small distance away, leaving me in private as I open the extranet browser and search for Mordin's clinic. I just need contact details…and there's the reception desk. Perfect.

I patch the call into my helmet, listening to the ring tone repeat four times before a male human voice replies.

"Dr. Solus' clinic. The doctor isn't in right now, but this is his assistant, Dylan. What do you need?"

"Dylan, my name is..." Can't really give him that. "Well, my alias is Deadpool. You might have heard of me?" Saying 'you might have heard of me' makes me sound like a desperate fucking celebrity...

"It's Deadpool? Huh, I've always heard Deadtool. So like I said, what do you need?"

"You need to be prepared for a possible airborne virus coming through the ventilation system feeding into the clinic," I explain. "Do you know about the serial killer at the moment, all over the news?"

"I've heard about it, yeah. What makes you think he's going after the clinic?"

"Potential body count," I say. "Look, I can't be certain you'll be targeted, but the clinic's a big place. I figured you'd be better off prepared."

"Alright, fair enough," Dylan replies. "So do you know what kind of virus or toxin the killer uses?"

"Not a fucking clue," I say, realising how helpful that would've been. Still, can't exactly ask Golo now, can we? "From the looks of things, it's been modified so it only affects humans...oh, and it makes the eyes bulge. If you want the Latin name, you're out of luck."

"Hmm...well that could be a problem," Dylan sighs. "We can't prepare for something if we don't know what it is, can we? Are there any other signs or symptoms?"

"I really wish there were, but that's it."

"Then we certainly do have a problem," he says quietly. "Let me think here...I don't know of any virus or bacteria that does that, but like you said, there's probably some genetic engineering." There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Still, I think this might be a toxin. PABA can cause increased photosensitivity...no, a lethal dose is too high to be plausable. Now DABCO, on the other hand...I think that could be it." I'm just standing there, not having a clue what he's talking about as Dylan continues to prattle on. Man after Mordin's heart... "Even ordinarily, it's harmful to the eyes. With a little engineering, it could easily be made lethal. I think we've found your killer."

"Great," I finally say, pretending I understood. "You can treat that, right?"

"For a certain value of 'treat', yes," he says. "It's best if you're never exposed at all, but we do have some measures we can take should exposure happen. The best thing to do is make sure it doesn't get in your eyes in the first place. Simple as that. Now, is there anything else you need?"

"No. Actually, yes. Call every other clinic you can, warn them about this as well."

"Can do, Deadpool," he replies. "Good luck out there. Try not to die. But if you do get hurt, you know who to call."

He seems far, far too happy telling me that. "Thanks," I say unsurely, hanging up the line as I look back to Evan. "Alright, that should be most of the medical clinics warned."

"Good thinking," he says, grinning. "So, you want to go back yourself a serial killer?"

"Been waiting all day for it," I nod, as the two of us break into a run in the general direction of the markets Golo pointed us to.

Time to finish this off.

**A/N: Alright, next chapter is the big case finale. Got some exciting stuff planned, trust me, so it'll be a good one. Might take me a _little _bit longer to write, since I'm busy all of Tuesday, but we'll see. Hopefully not.**

**Thanks for reading, and see you next time!**


	42. Ian vs The Killer

Chapter 42

Feeder: Call Out

**January 27th, 2185  
00:34am, Omega time  
Cicesse markets **

The Cicesse markets. I try not to breathe in too deeply as I walk through them with Evan at my side, ignoring the looks my armour's drawing as we move towards apartment block six, squeezing between gaps in the crowds browsing alien wares, bootleg vids, weaponry, food, medical supplies, and a whole host of other goods. People say if there's something you want, you'll find it here if you look hard enough, and I'm inclined to believe the rumour. Still, the whole smell of different cultural dishes, combined with the various species roaming around, is managing to overload the air filter on my helmet. It's not pleasant.

"Gotta love it down here," Evan says, as the two of us squeeze between a bickering turian and the salarian vendor serving him. "First time here, the smell practically knocked me on my ass. One rookie literally puked. Sick all over some turian's shotgun range, it was really embarrassing."

"Cool story, bro," I reply, my attention focused firmly on the building on the right hand side of the street we're walking across. It's weird walking in the crowd here…there's no mercenaries, but people are definitely reacting to the armour suit. I've had some people giving cynical laughs as I've walked by, either through disrespect or assuming I'm a fake, but others have watched shyly, giving me small smiles as I pass or whispering thanks. Despite what Garrus says in ME2, about not being able to change anything…the effect on ordinary people is profound sometimes. It's like Melanis says. We're giving them hope. "Almost there. I'll take the door to his apartment, you block the stairwell in case he manages to escape."

"We're shooting to kill, right?" Evan says, quickly lowering his voice at the startled look an asari woman gives him as he hurries past. "Cos I'm definitely shooting to kill."

"If you can get him alive, that'd be better," I say. "We can check if he's got any accomplices." Evan opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off before then. "If it looks like he's going to get away, though, or you're in any danger, don't hesitate. Taking him down's the priority."

"I can do that," he nods, as we finally reach the door to the apartment building. Six stories high, each room with identical, dirty windows staring out over the market. In one of them, we've got a serial killer putting together a human-killing virus that he could unleash at anytime, anywhere.

Isn't Omega great?

The place is the usual shit-hole when we walk in, though this actually makes Golo's place look kind of plush in comparison. I notice at least three used needles on the ground as I look down, silently thankful for wearing thick shoes as we tread forward, making a wide berth around a quarian laid in the corner, staring up at the roof and making a quiet, happy groaning noise. "At least he's having a good time," Evan mutters, as the two of us get to the elevators. I press the call button, making a horrible juddering noise come through the closed doors to the elevator shaft. We wait five seconds and the doors open to the elevator jittering into place, its floor slightly out of sync with the floor of the lobby. I look over at Evan.

"Stairs?"

"Stairs."

We turn and walk into a delightfully narrow, piss-stained staircase curling up and around the tight space, and the steps are slippery with a mystery fluid I really don't want to check as the two of us climb. Good thing places like this are the norm for Omega, else it'd lead to even more awkward questions with Melanis when I get back to base. Or worse, Grundan. "I'll wait here," Evan says, as we stop outside the fifth floor. "It's better making him go up. We'll lose him in the crowd, and I'm not going to shoot my way through a bunch of civilians to get to him."

"Good to see you're not following mercenary protocol, then," I chuckle, but I stop when I see the look he's giving me. "Too far, sorry."

"It's a minority running it for the majority," he shrugs. As far as I can tell, it's the other way around…though he does work for them, so I can't blame him for thinking that. "Doesn't matter." He looks over into the door to Zel's floor, and gives me a smile in there. "Good luck. And try not to get any of that toxin shit in your eyes."

"Thanks for the advice," I say, returning the smile. "Try not to, uh…fall down the stairs."

"Brilliant," he says sarcastically, as I walk into the hallway and the door closes behind me. I count the numbers on the doors off as I walk, taking deep breaths. Here we go, nothing to it…just hack through the door, find the killer, make sure he can't kill again, and leave. That simple. No complications.

I sigh as soon as I think 'no complications'. Well, that's guaranteed not to happen now…

Apartment number twenty three. The apartment numbers have been assigned from the top floor downwards, hence the relatively low number. The further he is away from ground access, though, the better, so I ain't complaining. Quietly, I settle next to the door panel, opening my omni-tool and looking at the security. Ah, that's fucking simple to get past. The hack module utterly destroys the primitive lock security in seconds, as I pull my pistol and get ready to breach in.

Then suddenly stop, the whole world lurching as my vision turns an orange tinge and I let out a gasp, putting one hand on my head while the other supports me on the wall.

_A Reaper destroying a planet._

Not now. Stop.

_Screams echoing around me._

I close my eyes, trying to breathe deeply as I feel the nausea rising. Stay focused, stay in control…

_Shepard falling, the triumphant roar filling my mind, rushing through me, the whispered letter, the destruction, the emotion, the fear…_

Just before it feels like I can't take anymore, it's gone. My vision clears, everything's back in focus, no noise except for the muffled sound of the markets outside. The nausea's completely gone too, and I straighten up, sighing in relief. The visions haven't hit for at least a month, but it looks like I'm better at controlling them.

Too bad I still don't understand why this is happening to me. Why my nightmares have managed to follow me into the day.

Fuck, that's deep.

I look back to the unlocked door, breathing in deeply. No time for reflection, I need to get in there and do this. Three, two, one…

I press the button and dash in with my pistol up, and my omni-tool flashlight turned on to try and blind anyone in front of me. The apartment's dark, meaning the flashlight illuminates the room well as I swing it around, passing over scientific equipment humming away, test tubes, incubators, Petri dishes, a terminal streaming genetic code, and a row of aerosols lined up on one wall. Son of a bitch, that's probably how he spreads it…but he's not here. Fuck, what if he's already on his way to a ventilation system?

But then why would he leave his stuff turned on?

I hear a sudden noise behind me, the tiny sound of a foot scraping across the floor…and I turn to see a quarian poised a few meters behind me, syringe in one hand as the two of us look at each other in shock.

"Don't even think about it," I say.

The quarian, presumably Zel, lunges forward, aiming for the weaker area of my neck armour. I step back quickly, grabbing the syringe arm and pressing my thumb into a joint quarians have on their forearms, making him reflexively drop the syringe with a small cry of pain. It doesn't last long, though, as he suddenly slams his knee into my stomach, making me double over, then rams his fist into the side of my head. The helmet absorbs any real damage, but I'm still dazed and out of breath from the knee in my stomach as I snap my head up…just in time to catch Zel running out the door, blood dripping from the hand he used to punch me. "Evan, he's coming your way!" I shout down the radio, setting off after him as I see the stairwell door begin to close. No reply from Evan. "Evan!"

"_Bastard knocked me down the stairs, I'm alright," _he finally replies, panting as I take a few precious seconds opening the way into the stairwell, seeing Evan running up the stairs just in front of me as I take off behind him. A rooftop chase, oh _good. _

"I told you not to fall down the stairs!" I shout after him.

"And I told you not to let him get away from you, so shut up!" Evan yells, charging out onto the roof as I follow him, the air of the market actually smelling relatively fresh compared to the apartment building as the two of us take off after Zel, who's got a headstart of about ten metres. If he was a turian, we'd have no chance, but my pace kicks in as I get ahead of Evan, my breathing falling into a practiced rhythm as I stride out, pushing off the balls of my feet.

The necessity to save space on Omega means rooftops are always close together, but even so, the drop down to the next building seem fairly large. Zel takes it like a champ, though, jumping off and rolling on the landing, though I see him cradling his injured hand as he does. I let out a grunt of effort, leaping forward and somehow managing to stay upright as I hit the ground, keeping my speed up. Evan makes impact a fraction of a second later, though I hear him swearing, suggesting the landing wasn't quite so perfect as I sprint after the quarian.

Zel looks behind him, quickly opening his omni-tool as he reaches the lip of the building and dropping something as he jumps. What the fuck…ahhh, tech mine! I skid to a halt, throwing myself backwards as it explodes, drawing screams from the crowds below as I get back up to my feet. Son of a bitch, he's at least twenty metres away now…but the rooftop path he's taking leads to a building diagonally opposite me. There's a ladder on the end of it leading down…but it'll take him another few seconds to loop around. The building's roof isn't within jumping distance…but the sides of it are.

I quickly check the grav clips on my palms, knees and feet, before sprinting towards the edge of the rooftop, facing towards the ladder building. "Ian, are you fucking crazy?" I hear Evan yell, but I ignore him as I hit the edge…and leap.

At first, it looks like I'm going to actually make the jump on my own, then the sinking feeling of gravity kicks in and I start to fall, with my hand still stuck out as the side of the building rushes past…and the ground comes up to meet me. I stretch both hands out as far as I can, and by some miracle, one grav clip makes contact, practically wrenching my arm off as I continue sliding down the vertical surface at a much slower rate until I finally manage to latch the other hand on, then both legs.

I take a quick back to Evan, who's just gawping at me, before I begin the climb up as fast as I can, trying to forget how sketchy the situation is as I Spiderman crawl my way to the edge of the roof, pulling myself up to see Zel running straight at me. He slows down when he sees what's blocking his path, but only for a second, since he yells immediately after and doubles the pace towards me.

I tense on the balls of my feet, waiting…and just before he's about to barge into me, I make a quick sidestep and hold my arm out at neck height. The impact makes me gasp in pain, but Zel comes off significantly worse, legs sweeping out from under him as he slams into the roof's hard surface. Before he can get up, I kneel down and trap him with a knee while he groans from the impact.

"We know exactly who you are," I say furiously. Zel's started to wriggle, but quickly drawing my pistol and pointing it at him stops that. "Killer." While I had qualms with interrogating Golo, this guy…he's a serial killer. Certain principles get changed with that context. "So, let me make this really, really simple for you. If you worked with anyone on this, you're going to tell me. If you didn't, then that's fine. End result's gonna be the same."

"Fuck you, human," Zel spits. "Why don't you just shoot me now, then? Huh?" His voice is quite high-pitched, hysterical, and he seems to have broken into giggles as I pin him. "Prove how much better you and your species are."

"What're you talking about?" I ask. Zel just giggles louder, but it's cut off when I force his head down to the floor with the pistol. "Tell me, and you get to live a few seconds longer."

"You don't get it?" he says, actually sounding surprised before he bursts into real laughter. I'm not really sure how to react. I'm not gonna randomly hit him for it, and telling him to shut up will probably just be counter-productive, so I just say more. "Oh, that's brilliant. I was disappointed by the media not understanding, but you? The one to actually catch me? And you still don't know?"

"Then enlighten us," Evan says. I look up, seeing the merc's finally reached our roof…and there's a dangerous glint in his blue eyes as he crouches next to Zel. "Come on. You want to go out without letting your legacy be known?"

"It was so obvious," Zel says, dying back down to the odd giggle now. "The eyes, a virus killing them? I mean, COME ON!" He yells the last two words, degenerating into a laughing fit again. "You humans think you're so _great. _Just turn up and fucking rule the galaxy, why don't you? And quarians? We've been around centuries longer than you, and we get fucking kicked to the dirt! The vagrants, the outcasts! Humans think they're so _fucking _superior." The giggling's gone, replaced with a serious hissing to his words. "But I showed them. I showed you all. We're not the weak ones. Humans are just as susceptible to disease as we are, and all you could see were their eyes." He barks out a short laugh. "The eyes."

The eyes. Bulging, the most noticeable thing on the corpses, the only thing standing out. Just like on a quarian. "All you did was make your own species look worse," I say, grabbing Zel by the collar as I stand up, hefting him with me. "And no-one even understood you, Zel. I'd be sorry for you if you weren't so fucking mental."

"I made my point," he says, flinging his arms wide. "Kill me for it. You humans are welcome to the galaxy like this."

"With pleasure," Evan says, stepping forward…and smashing his gun into Zel's visor. It fractures, then he swings back again, the second blow shattering it completely as I let Zel go in shock. He's too busy to run, though, just standing with his mask off, taking in breaths of real air with a look of shock on his alien face. Until Evan grabs him.

"Feel what they felt," he says. Then coughs.

I always knew quarians had weak immune systems. After everything with Tali, I understood that, I had to. If I was feeling even slightly under the weather, the mask stayed on, even with her immunoboosters. The sheer thought of coughing or sneezing while it off scared the shit out of me, and it still does. Seeing what's happening to Zel doesn't help with that.

For a few seconds, he stares at Evan. Then it starts. He lets out a small retching noise, then a louder one, dropping to his knees and giving dry heaves as his breathing becomes more and more laboured. He lets out a gurgling noise, suddenly falling onto his back and struggling weakly, as Evan slowly walks and stands over him, pistol in hand.

"You did this," he says simply. Then lifts the gun, and fires two shots into Zel's heart. The quarian lets out one last sigh, sounding relieved as the pain slips away…and so does his life, the bright eyes sliding shut as his body lies still. Asides from the sound of the market, neither Evan and I say a word, staring at the corpse for a minute.

"He had to understand what he did to those people," Evan finally says. "I didn't enjoy that. But justice needs people to recognise their failures."

"Sometimes understanding's a cruelty in itself," I reply, looking away from the body and out over Omega, turning my back to the corpse as I stare out from the roof. One less thing for people to worry about. At least that's something. "He's finished, that's what matters. And I guess he understood what he did in the end. For better or worse."

"He's not the only one who needs to," Evan mutters. Just as I hear the safety on his gun click off.

No, no, come on… "You've got to be joking," I say, one hand slowly straying towards my pistol as I begin to turn around.

"Hands where I can see them," Evan says. I stop my movements when I see the pistol pointing. His expression is the same stony look he gave Zel. I don't move, still judging whether I'll be able to get the pistol in time. "Hands where I can see them!" he yells. I'm not getting out of this, am I? I raise my hands up, hoping it'll somehow relax Evan, but he's got the same determined look. "Lower your helmet!" I do what he says, giving him a glare as I do so.

"Why're you doing this?" I ask, trying to keep my voice calm despite the fury I'm feeling. I should've seen this coming. I fucking should've, but I let him draw me in. "We can both just walk away, Evan. That was my plan all along."

"Then at least you have some kind of honour," he says. "I respect that. But you'd kill again, we both know it."

"I kill the people who terrorise the innocents on this rock," I shoot back. "There's a fucking distinction to be made there, Evan. You do the same as I do."

"Do I?" he asks sarcastically. "Do I really? Yes, I hunt down people, and yes, I kill them. But I make sure they're the ones responsible. I can't pull my trigger unless I know I've got the person behind the crime. But you? You cut down the people who're just trying to make a living, supporting their families, who don't have any interest in the exploitation. I'm aware there's a distinction. The problem is that you don't make it."

"Evan, for fuck's sake, come on!" I shout. "After everything we've been through, do you _really _think I'm like that?"

He sighs, shaking his head. "That's why this is hard. You're not a bad person. But neither are some of the people you kill. It's their life or yours."

"They knew what they were getting into when they signed up with the mercs," I say. "Wherever I can avoid killing people, I do it."

"But you wouldn't hesitate if you had to," Evan says. "Answer me this. How many mercenaries have you killed since you came here, huh?" I try to think of a reply…but come up empty. "You don't know, do you? Lost count?"

"I don't keep count," I growl. "It's not like I enjoy killing people, Evan. I just do it to protect people."

"Tell that to the families you've left without someone," he replies, sounding just as angry as I do. We stand there, my hands in the air, his gun pointing at me. The fucked up thing is…I understand him. I know what it is I'm doing here, but I've justified it to myself. Evan doesn't have that justification, he just sees what I do as murder. This isn't some kind of mercenary revenge, or for my bounty, he genuinely wants to stop me killing people. We're two sides of the same coin.

Too bad that's not gonna stop him shooting me.

"At least I don't stab my own friends in the back," I say, stalling for more time as the two of us face each other down.

Evan, for once in his life, doesn't actually have a witty comeback to that, actually looking extremely uncomfortable. "You were helpful for stopping Zel," he says. "I appreciate what you did. But one good deed doesn't excuse hundreds of others."

"Christ, Evan, I'm stopping people who'd kill anyone for money! Who abuse people for fun!" I shout. "You have a moral compass, look at it!"

"I know what you do!" he yells. "This isn't a spontaneous decision! But for all the good you do, the collateral damage…" Evan shakes his head. "Sorry. I can't let it continue."

"Please, just…don't," I say, realising he's not going to be dissuaded. Evan, you righteous bastard… "You're not a bad guy, Evan."

"And neither are you," he says sadly. "But I need to stop you." I stand in silence, totally out of things to say, or escape routes to take. "One shot to the head, that's your MO," Evan finally says, readying the gun. "It won't hurt. At least you gave people that."

"Don't," is all I can manage, my voice practically a whisper. I'm gonna have to go for my gun…even though I know he's going to be able to get me before I can.

"I'm sorry, Deadpool."

"I'm sorry too."

I lunge for my gun, just as a gun goes off…and my whole body goes cold, freezing my movements as I slowly look down and place a hand on my chest, feeling for a bullet wound.

And finding nothing. Evan's giving me the same sad, determined look…which stays on his face as he falls forward, small hole drilled through his forehead.

"Ian!"

Hint of an Australian accent, flanged tone with a concerned weight.

Melanis.

"Ian!" she yells, and I hear her running towards me, while I just stand there with my back still turned, hand on my stomach as the cold feeling of shock begins to wear off. She killed Evan…she saved me. "Ian, what's wrong? Did he get a shot off?"

I turn around slowly to face her. My hands are still shaking from stress and fear, and I lower the helmet as Melanis' eyes meet mine, filled with worry. "I'm fine," I say unsteadily. "Not sure how long the mental recovery's gonna take, but I didn't get shot." How did she find me? And…fuck, she's seen Evan.

As the shock and adrenaline begins to wear off, and my normal thoughts settle in, I realise I'm in for one fucking awkward explanation.

"So, now that you're okay," Melanis breathes, the worry slowly being replaced with her familiar glare, "would you mind telling me what the _fuck _that was?"

There's no point lying now, she's seen too much for that to work. God, this is probably what Golo felt like about an hour ago. Karma's a bitch. "He's a Blue Suns guy," I admit. "Evan Carter. He helped me with the serial killer case."

"You were working with a Blue Suns merc and didn't bother to tell anyone?" Melanis shouts. Well, the concern's totally gone now… "Why the hell would you keep something like that from us?"

"Why do you think?" I snap, feeling like a little kid getting chastised for being an idiot. "I come skipping back into the base and say I've got a new friend who just happens to be in the Blue Suns, sure, that could only end well."

"I'm sure that if you'd explained it to us, we would have understood," Melanis snarls. "But you didn't. And it almost got you killed!"

"I couldn't take that risk," I reply. I want to raise my voice, shout back, but I just sound defeated as I talk. She's right, I should have at least tried to explain…even if they might not have let it happen. I didn't even bother to give it an attempt. "If it hadn't been for Evan, the killer would still be out there."

Melanis stays silent for a bit, then sighs. "You're just damn lucky you're an awful liar. Otherwise I wouldn't have followed you, and you'd be dead. Would that have been worth it, Ian?"

I search for an excuse, and find nothing. I fucked up. That's all there really is to it. "No," I finally say.

"Exactly," Melanis nods. "We've already lost Mierin. I don't think Garrus could have handled losing you, too."

The thought of Garrus in that situation makes me feel a small pang of sadness. God, I don't even want to think of what he'd end up doing… "Don't kick me while I'm already down," I say, casting the thoughts aside. "I'm sorry. I just thought…I thought I had it under control."

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Melanis says, her voice becoming more gentle as she steps closer to me. "I'm just trying to get you to understand how absolutely stupid you were." I chuckle a bit when she says that, then stop at the look she gives me. "You have teammates for a reason, Ian, we're always here to help."

"Except Grundan," I mutter.

Her mandibles flex as she sighs, showing she's trying to hide a laugh. "Fine. Except Grundan. But my point still stands, Ian."

"I trust you, don't get me wrong," I say. "But that's the problem. Everyone in there wants the mercs dead. If they found out I wanted to work with one…"

"You worked with a merc to stop a serial killer. I think everyone would have seen that the killer was a bigger threat," she points out.

"Yeah. I don't know." I still find it really hard to believe that any of the squad would have just accepted it…but maybe they would have understood the lesser of two evils. Or something. I wanted Evan to be able to get away without having to deal with the squad…then he tried to kill me. Even if it was for the right reasons, at least in his mind. "You're right," I say, shaking my head. "I'm an idiot."

The turian smirks next to me. "Yeah, you are. But the first step to getting help is admitting you have a problem."

"Ha. Cute."

"I thought so too," Melanis chuckles, then looks down at Evan's body. I look at it too, frowning. I actually feel sad seeing him like that. He tried to kill me…but only because he genuinely saw me as a murderer. Evan was never the bad guy. It's weird to think, considering he almost ended my life, but he didn't deserve this. "So, who was he?" she asks. "And how did you meet him?"

"We ran into each other at the crime scene where those two mercs died," I explain. "He caught me 'borrowing' evidence, but I convinced him we'd be more effective working together. We both wanted the killer caught, after all. He just had his eye on more than one."

"I'm surprised he didn't just shoot you on sight," Melanis says.

"I had a use alive," I reply. "I could help him catch a serial killer before he dealt with me. I actually thought we were friends, too…"

"Well, I guess you should let that be a lesson," Mel mutters. "Mercs will kill anyone once they outlive their usefulness."

I shake my head firmly. "He wasn't like that."

"And yet look what I walked in on."

"Way he saw it, I was as much of a killer as the quarian. Maybe more so," I say, looking down at Evan, his eyes permanently shut. I actually feel a bit tearful. "This wasn't about revenge, or money, anything like that. He died trying to take down a criminal. In his eyes, anyway. I know it's weird, but…I kind of respect that." And he was a nice bloke, too. Damn it, Evan…

"I wouldn't say that to anyone else on the squad," Melanis grins. "Not if you like living."

I shoot her a small glare at that. "I'm serious." The turian looks at me blankly, and I just sigh. They didn't know the real Evan, and I realise how bad this looks. No point trying to justify what he did. "Forget it."

"I will. Now, if you're done here, let's get back home." She turns to walk away, but I hold my ground.

"Mel." The female turian turns around to look at me. "You can't tell the others about this. Please."

She gives me a long, hard look, meeting my eyes carefully before slowly nodding. "Fine. But you better be honest with me, or your ass is mine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The turian grins, turning and walking away again as she does so. "Means exactly what it says. I'll kick your ass if you ever lie to me like that again."

"That's one hell of an incentive not to," I say, jogging up behind her.

"Exactly," she nods. "Now let's go. I'm ready to get some sleep."

"Wait, wait, one more thing," I say quickly, causing her to flex her mandibles dangerously as she turns to face me. "Thanks. For, you know…saving my life."

"Don't mention it. Like I said, I don't want the bother of training someone else," she says, trying to make it sound like a joke. The concerned expression on her face back when she thought I'd been shot tells a whole different story, though.

"I'm not the only awful liar, it seems," I say, smiling.

Melanis glares at me. "Just get moving, smart ass."

"You've been saying ass a lot lately," I say as we walk, grinning wide. "Apparently your subconscious can make you do that when you're thinking about something else while you talk…"

"Oh, I'm thinking about it a lot, all right," she replies. "Thinking about kicking it into next week."

"Back to base. Got it."

"Good," she says, chuckling. "Like I said, I could really do with my rest right now."

I breathe out, realising just how tired I am as I try to keep with the female turian's long strides. Stopping a serial killer, almost being killed by someone I thought was a friend…and sharing a secret with someone I thought wasn't. This night's gone far, far too long.

"That makes two of us," I say, giving a small smile as we begin to descend back into the markets.

**A/N: Case complete!**

**I wasn't trying to portray Evan as a bad guy, hopefully that came across. Like Ian said, they're two sides of the same coin.**

**Anyway, should be another flashforward next chapter! Which means it's likely to be a bit shorter than usual, though that's actually ideal since I leave for a small holiday on Friday, so I should be able to get it out before then. Here's hoping.**

**Hope you enjoyed this case, anyway. See you next time!**


	43. Ian vs The Walk

Chapter 43

Muse: Time is Running Out

**October 16th, 2185  
11:38pm, Omega time  
Archangel's hideout**

"All out of medigel," I sigh, as the last soothing drop slides over my hand wound, and my omni-tool flashes a red warning to inform me that was the last application. It's been almost an hour since I got the varren bite, and…things haven't gotten any better. The wound's continued to bleed, a mix of congealed blood and pus forming around where the varren's fangs went in, and more pumps through every time the medi-gel seal gets broken. The pain's been dulled by the painkillers in the gel, but now that it's gone…ten minutes and it's going to be throbbing horribly.

Not to mention the fact that it's not just my hand that hurts anymore. Over the past hour or so, the pain's slid up my forearm, and is working its way past my bicep, practically disabling my entire left arm. The whole limb explodes in agony when I try to move it, or flex my fingers, even with the medi-gel. Once it gets to the top of my arm and spreads further…I don't want to know.

The two of us have still managed to defend the base, Garrus more than compensating for me only being able to use a pistol, but the hour's limit we gave before taking things into our own hands is coming up…and the mercs aren't showing any sign of letting up. There's no sign of Lara Shepard. Either we get cut down in a hail of mercenary bullets, or I die inside the house from a painful infection while Garrus has to watch.

I look over the bridge, frowning. When you compare the two options, running the gauntlet doesn't seem so bad. It's quick. I get to take a few of them with me.

"You can have mine," Garrus says, looking over from his position on the balcony, crouched with his sniper rifle resting on the rail. I wave him away with a hand before he can dispense any for me, though.

"No point in both of us dying because you didn't have enough medi-gel to heal up a gunshot," I say, my throat actually feeling dry and husky. Hell, Omega was always hot, but the current temperature…I'm going into a fever. I reach over, taking a swig of one of the bottles of chilled water I've got laid about our defensive position. There's no stopping it, but I can stave it off.

"You're not going to die," Garrus says firmly, opening up the medical compartment on his suit and taking out half of his remaining capsules before I can stop him, handing them to me. "I'm not letting them kill you with an infection."

"But killing me any other way is fine?" I chuckle, which just make me cough as it rumbles up through my throat.

"It's less embarrassing," Garrus says, trying to widen his mandibles in a smile at me. "I know how much you care about your image."

"Says the guy strutting around in his bright blue armour," I reply.

"Riiight," he says. "Because a blood red…what do you call them, dragons? A blood red dragon on your chest isn't image conscious at all."

"At least my alias didn't go to my head."

"That's because no-one actually knows yours," Garrus points out. "And I got given mine. You made yours up."

"Christ, Garrus," I grin weakly. "I can't keep up with your devastating banter in this condition, you know that."

"I'll take any advantage I can get," he chuckles. "Makes a change." He looks back over the bridge with his sniper rifle scope, which has been quite for about five minutes now. "They're planning something."

"You think it's too much to hope they've just packed up and gone home?" I ask.

"I think it might be," he says, as I slowly get to my feet and walk over to the turian, who holds up the sniper scope for me to look through. I can see lots of mercs moving around…predominantly Eclipse. "Looks like Jaroth's pulled the short straw for this assault."

"He's probably still pissed about you wrecking his eezo operation," I say. Poor Jaroth. Always so angry. Though Garrus did pick off his brother during a routine weaponry shipment raid a month or so ago, plus Butler and I fucked up most of his eezo operation by finishing Ripard. He's basically the equivalent of a Scooby Doo villain for us, considering we keep foiling his dastardly schemes and he's left shaking his fist in hammy fury as we do so, which would be a lot more entertaining if he wasn't in control of an enormous mercenary group that's more than willing and able to murder us.

"Well, hopefully he'll decided to put his head out and tell me that to my face," Garrus growls, his talons tightening around the sniper rifle.

"Either they're getting ready to attack, or they're waiting for me to bleed out or something," I say, pressing my back against the balcony and sliding to sit down. I take another swig of water, desperately trying to cool the burning heat building up inside me. I'm probably thinning my blood without the amount of water I'm drinking, but I can't afford to slip out of lucidity due to fever.

"You're not going to bleed out," Garrus insists. "I'll carry you out before that can happen."

"If that's seriously the only plan we've got, we need to think this through a bit better," I chuckle. I think part of me's just accepted I'm probably screwed, hence how I'm managing to find the funny side here. That or hysteria. At least it beats being miserable.

"We'll think of something," the turian says, his voice determined. "We always do. I just need an opening. After Eclipse's next attack, we'll move."

"Move where?" I ask, feeling my body tilt in the seated position. I gasp in pain as my left arm instinctively shoots out to catch myself, and I clench my teeth as I quickly compensate with my right arm, regaining my balance. With the medi-gel already starting to wear off, the throbbing sensation is running all the way through the limb again, threatening to take my shoulder as I try to block it out, with limited success. I can feel blood and other fluid oozing out onto my hand, but I don't want to look at it, knowing I'll probably hurl. Considering how weak I feel already, that's the last thing I need.

"Just leave that to me," Garrus replies.

"That means you don't have a fucking clue," I say. Garrus doesn't reply, choosing to keep looking out over the bridge. "I'm not letting you throw your life away for me, Garrus. You can hold this place by yourself until Shepard gets here, I'll try and sneak it out myself."

"You won't make it ten yards," he says.

"And with you, I'll make it what? Fifteen?" I ask rhetorically. "Face it, mate. We need more than just words." I gasp again at a sudden throb of pain, and I feel myself sweating profusely as breath rattles out my dry throat.

"We'll think of something," he repeats.

"Right," I mutter sarcastically, shaking my head. "Something." I lean my head back, letting out a low groan at the pain as I grit my teeth. Considering my left arm's basically been paralysed, and the infection's spreading across my body, it'll probably do this until it reaches my central nervous system, and then…yeah. Goodnight, Mr. Shaw. Though 'goodnight' implies a gentle end, whereas I'm fairly sure this is going to be one of those categorised under 'extremely painful' in Death's handbook. Joy.

"Something's coming," Garrus suddenly says, leaning forward as he squints down the scope, and I clamber up to look over the balcony with my naked eyes. "They're all pointing towards us, and getting out the way of somethi -" He suddenly stops mid-sentence, since the sight approaching us doesn't need any kind of magnification to identify.

"YMIR mech," I say. "Well. Balls."

The two of us open fire at the same time. Firing one handed whilst in the throes of fever isn't the best for my accuracy, but given how big the target is, it's not such a massive issue. Garrus pours sniper shot after sniper shot into it…until the mech looks up at us, and I see the chaingun on its arm begin to whirl up. Ignoring the protest of my left arm, I fling myself down next to Garrus as bullets thud into the already chipped balcony, whizzing overhead and keeping us suppressed. "It's getting inside the house," Garrus says, pulling his assault rifle off his back. "Shit."

"That about covers it," I say back, readying my pistol as I look over the balcony and get a few shots off at its head as it passes underneath us. The shields must almost be down…but we've still got the armoured mech underneath to get through. "You take point, I'll follow behind."

"Not in that state," Garrus says firmly. "Stay here and make sure they don't send any mercs in after us."

"I'm not letting you go after a freakin' heavy mech by yourself," I protest. "That's suicide."

"I can handle it," he replies, moving in a crouch towards the door. "Stay here. I mean it." With that, he moves out, and the door slides shut as I hear the sound of assault rifle fire behind me. Heaving myself up again, I look over…and see that no mercs have followed behind. They're obviously waiting on more freelancers. Either that or they're sick of getting people killed, and they want to see how much damage a mech can do. If this doesn't work, they can always send in another one with troop support.

Leaning back, I apply one of Garrus' medi-gel applications, gasping as the pain begins to subside a fraction, and I seal up the wound from any more warm blood getting onto my hand. I can feel it, dry on my skin, breaking at every tiny movement of my hand and fingers. Nice little reminder of my mortality. Rapidly ending mortality.

The squad might not be here, but at least they're free from Omega. They're together. While I'm stuck here, slowly dying and trying to think of a way past an impregnable wall of mercs. The more I think about it, the more I find myself envying them.

I groan to myself as the pain begins to flare up again, just seconds after the medi-gel being put on. My sight's beginning to slip in and out of focus, and I feel like I've been dropped into a sauna as I sit back, my eyes drooping shut. Garrus can handle it…I just need to wait for the all clear, and we can come up with a plan, get out of here…

A frantic beeping from downstairs, combined with an explosion, brings me back to reality as I snatch up my pistol with shock, heart rate rocketing up as I realise what almost happened there. Feeling ready to fall asleep in a time like this isn't a good sign. At all. If I do…I dunno if I'm gonna get up again.

At least it sounds like Garrus' finished the mech, though. The bastard things usually explode when they go down. I struggle up to my feet, walking to the balcony to congratulate him…and I see the heavy mech stomping about.

Garrus is nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he's just in cover…but why wouldn't he have come out to shoot at the mech in so long?

He told me to stay up here. For my own good. He'll be pissed if I don't follow that order. I reach back for the HVB, checking the power cell for the electrical charge is still in place.

Course, that's not really an issue if the mech's killed him. Fever or not, I can't abandon him. I'm not going to be able to take it down with a pistol…but sticking this through the back of the mech's head should deal with that problem. Trying not to move my left arm too much, I quietly head to the door leading downstairs and crouch down by the stairs, keeping hidden by the banister as I descend to the ground floor, quietly hissing in pain as I do so while the fever preys upon my mind and body. I'm not going to be able to dive roll away here, or pull some kind of acrobatic dodge…one shot, or I'm dead.

Ever so slowly, I stick my head out to see the mech with its back turned, advancing towards one of the sofas. If Garrus is behind that, I've got no time to waste.

I get to my feet, trying to run at the mech, but the best I can manage is a clumsy jog as I raise the weapon in my right hand, pointing the blade down towards as I activate the electrical charge. As soon as I reach the mech, I plunge the blade down towards its back with all the strength I have.

Too bad that amounts to virtually nothing.

It spasms as the blade makes contact, and cuts into its armour a fraction, but the blade slides out before I can correct the angle. It's a gargantuan effort to lift it up again…by which time the mech's turned around again, robot head facing me as it slams its rocket launcher arm into my chest, knocking me flying across the room, HVB falling out of my grip.

I hit the floor, barely feeling the impact as I slide for a few seconds then my head bumps against a wall lightly. I can barely breathe from the mech's hit, and I know my left arm is exploding with pain, but it feels…distant, I guess. Hell, the whole thing does. The mech seems to be whirring up its chaingun, but I sigh and close my eyes, somehow not giving a damn as my head lolls to the side, effort of keeping it up too much for me.

My eyes shut completely, and all the pain seems to drift away as I feel a small smile slip onto my face. Just a little nap. I can finally get some peace around here…

The vision flares up as I begin to drift off, but much, much weaker than usual. The images flash by, but…there's no sound. I can see the Reaper, the sight making my blood run cold, but the usual scream isn't there. The image is weird, too, slower than usual, but the orange tinge is all washed out. By the time it's halfway through, everything's going out of focus, fading out, and I'm more than happy to let it slip through my fingers. At least I don't have to worry about them for once.

Faintly, it feels like something's pressing at me, trying to make me wake up. Fuck's sake…I try to screw my eyes shut even tighter, but the pushing gets more and persistent, until I can physically feel something on my chest, slamming up and down, dragging me back into consciousness…

My eyes fly open, and I break into a coughing fit, rolling onto my left side and gasping in air. For a second, it feels fine…then the huge pressure on my left arm makes me scream, rolling back over and curling up in a ball as I feel medi-gel trying to soothe it. I'm bathed in sweat, I can hear my heart pounding in my head, and I look frantically around, fear prevalent in my mind. What the fuck happened, where's the mech, where's Garrus-

"Don't you dare die on me," I hear a flanging voice growl, as its turian owner pulls me up into a seating position and puts both his hands on my shoulders, staring into my helmet. His own helmet's off, eyes searching between the gaps in my visor. "Say something. Say something!"

"Garrus," I pant, trying to wriggle free from his grip, but the turian doesn't let me go. "I need to…the mech, I need to kill it…"

"No you don't," Garrus says gently, keeping his voice low and calming as I see mech parts scattered around, the floor nearby singed…and the HVB lying discarded near them. "You're safe, Ian, just calm down." I stop trying to break free, coughing again. "How do you feel?"

"Like a million credits," I say sarcastically, groaning as some kind of lucidity returns to me. I fell asleep. That's not good. "What happened? I remember the mech hitting me, then…"

"My rifle jammed, so I was stuck in cover. You drew the mech's attention away, and I picked up that sword and stabbed it while it was trying to kill you," Garrus explains. "You always seem to bait the bad guys, don't you?"

"Not on purpose," I reply, trying to focus on the turian's concerned face, but even the effort of that is making me lightheaded. "Why'd you wake me up?"

"Because you weren't breathing," Garrus says simply.

"Ah." He must've given me CPR…and I still feel ready to just drift again.

"Besides, even if you were, I can't have you sleeping on the job," he says, rising to his feet and extending a talon to help me up. He laughs, but the tone and expression on his face show just how scared he is. Mandibles twitching with nerves, eyes wider than usual, watching for anything out of the ordinary. "Let's go. We need to make sure they don't send reinforcements." He's trying to act like nothing's different…but we both know.

I take the help up, but I lower my helmet to look at him as I do so. "Garrus." I just say the one word, but the look on my face says infinitely more to him. No smile, no raised eyebrow, nothing. I know I look defeated. And he knows it too. "I can't do this anymore."

"We just need to wait for Shepard," he insists. "She'll know how to help you."

"Garrus, come on-"

"Or I'll take you out. We can push through them, the two of us, just like old times!"

"Garrus…"

"I told you, I'll think of a way out," he says desperately. I lower my head, sighing. "Come on, Ian, give me something to work with here!"

"That's always been your problem, mate," I say, cracking a weak smile. "You don't know when to let go." Garrus surveys me glumly, not sure what to say as his mandibles widen sadly. "I've got a plan. We're going to let a merc in here and kill him. I'll take his gear, cloak and head back across the bridge. At least I'll be able to wreak some havoc before they get me. Maybe I can destroy that gunship outright."

"You don't have to do this," Garrus says, his voice pleading. "Just wait for Shepard." I shake my head. "If you're going out there, I'm coming with you."

"No," I snap, putting as much force behind the word as my fever filled body can manage. "Don't you dare, Garrus, don't you _fucking _dare. If you throw your life away for me, I swear to Christ, I'll never forgive you."

"But this is suicide," he says quietly. "And you know it."

"I either die slowly here, or I go out there and actually make myself useful," I say, shrugging with only my right shoulder. "I'm not making you watch while an infection kills me off, Garrus." The poor guy's absolutely lost for words, staring at me as I try to give him a reassuring smile. "Everyone dies eventually," I say softly. "My luck had to run out sometime."

We stand there for a few seconds, Garrus obviously trying to think of some miraculous plan, some way out…then he sighs. "You bastard," he whispers, shaking his head, trying to return my smile but not doing a very good job. "You can't just expect me to go along with this."

"No," I say. "I don't. But I'm asking you as a friend. Do this one last thing for me."

"I'm not letting you go and kill yourself," he replies, conviction in his voice weak.

"Garrus, you've heard about what this kind of bite can do to people," I say. "Is that what you want for me? That's how you want to remember me?"

"My memory's going to be you getting through this," he insists.

"No." I shake my head sadly. The way he's just not letting go, refusing to give up on me…I feel like breaking down and crying, but I need to stay strong. For his sake as much as mine. "It's not. If I stay with you, you know how this'll end? I'll be up there, writhing in pain, screaming at you to finish me off. And I know you, Garrus. You won't be able to do it. I wouldn't be able to do it for you."

"At least you have a chance up there," he says. He doesn't even sound like he's convinced himself with that. Without a word, I reach over to the clasp on the left arm of my armour, opening it up for Garrus to see as I look at it myself…and close my eyes for a second as I see it.

"Shit," I whisper, pulling back the sleeve of my underlayer and looking up the arm. The skin all down the arm's turned yellow, and the veins I can see have turned black, roots of darkness climbing up my body and towards my chest. "Does this look like a chance, Garrus?" I ask rhetorically, meeting his eyes as he looks to the wound, then back at me. "Let me finish this on my own terms. Help me this one last time." The turian stares at me, obviously distraught…as he lowers his head and nods. Just once. "Thank you," I breathe. Wordlessly, Garrus heads back towards the stairs, and I walk slowly after him, waiting for the next wave of mercs to arrive.

Seeing the look on his face just before he puts his helmet on hurts almost as much as the infection.

#######

**Ten minutes, one armour set later…**

"Alright, I've got it synched with my omni-tool," I say, adjusting the armour one last time as I look out over the bridge, making sure the mercs can't see me. "There's enough cover out there for me to tactical cloak, hide and recharge, then move forward until I get in there. You got Weaver's charges?" Garrus hands over the explosives wordlessly, which I stash in the armour. "I'll make sure the gunship isn't coming back. Then you hold this position until Shepard arrives. Don't come after me, don't try to save me, don't do anything except hold your position. Promise me you'll do that."

"I promise," Garrus says. I try to turn out towards the bridge…but his hand suddenly snaps out, grabbing my good arm and turning me back around. "This is my fault. I should have protected you better…"

"You're not apologising for this," I say simply. "Nope. It's not happening. You couldn't have stopped that varren biting me."

"If I'd looked over the balcony and seen it, I could have," he insists.

"There's about a million 'what-if' scenarios every time something goes wrong," I say. "You blame yourself for every single one…it'll consume you, Garrus. I don't want that."

"And I don't want you to die," he says.

"Neither do I," I sigh. "But we can't have everything, can we?" I feel so remarkably calm about this. I'm going to walk out there, plant a bomb, and get killed. I guess it's the fact the alternative's a painful death from a varren bite. In relative terms, I'm getting it good with this. "This isn't your fault, Garrus." I pause for a second. "If anyone should apologise, it's me. For not telling you things earlier. About the betrayal. About Evan."

The turian chuckles, shaking his head. "I understand why you didn't."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You're not just saying that because I'm about to die?"

"I was the leader of a group dedicated to taking down the merc groups, it's not that hard to get why you didn't want to tell me you were working with one," he nods. "And the betrayal…I know you had to let it happen. I appreciate you telling me you knew. I know I got angry, but…"

"It's in the past," I say firmly. "We both made mistakes."

"Way too many," Garrus agrees. "Everything with Harga…"

"The less said about that, the better," I say. "But hey. We beat them."

"Not completely," the turian replies.

"But we made a dent. It's better than nothing." I let out a small gasp as my arm throbs, and I look over the bridge again. "I'm running out of time, Garrus."

"I know," he says sadly. "There's still time for Shepard to turn up."

"Not enough," I say. The whole area is silent, except for the sound of merc chatter and machinery being prepped across the bridge. "So…I guess this is goodbye," I finally say.

"Yeah," Garrus nods. "I guess it is."

The two of us stand there, then spontaneously hug, and I feel moisture finally form in my eyes, despite trying to force it away. "Thanks," I whisper. "For everything." I don't need to say anymore, they small nod of Garrus' head showing he understands perfectly.

"Don't mention it," he says, trying to chuckle. "Been a crazy few years, hasn't it?"

"Certainly has," I nod, breaking apart from the hug and trying not to cry as I see Garrus do the same. "Tell Shepard I said that I'm sorry I missed the party. It would've been fun."

"I'll pass it along," the turian nods, his voice shaking. I put my helmet on, ready for the walk facing me. Garrus is more than just a friend, he's a brother to me. And I know I mean the same to him. "Now go," he finally says, looking across the bridge. "Give them hell for me."

"Yes, sir," I nod. I make to turn around, then look back one last time. "Garrus, I-"

"Please," he says quietly. "Go. Before I change my mind, go."

There's no final words fitting for him. Nothing I can say to make this better. So, I turn, activating my cloak, feeling the tears flow freely now as I slowly make my way to the first bit of cover, letting the power recharge as I hide. This is better for him. At least he'll get to live on, he won't have to watch me die, and I don't have to die painfully.

I press forward again, almost at the entrance to the merc area as the pain spreads onto my left side, the arm hanging limp and useless as I shelter again, checking the explosive charges one last time. Going out with a bang. Literally. At least I can appreciate the slightly funny side.

With one final effort, I cloak and pull myself up and over the small drop onto the bridge, crawling into a blind spot as I rematerialise and get to my feet, stepping out into the open as if there's nothing suspicious at all as I walk to my right and into the docking bay that holds the gunship. I breathe a sigh of relief, seeing the area's deserted as I quickly walk to the gunship, leaning on it as I pull out the explosives and slap them on, one by one, glancing out at the mercs milling about. The fuckers don't stand a chance without this…so at least that's something.

I see the lights on the charges turn green, and I give a grim smile, pulling out the detonator as I get ready to limp to a safe distance. Then I can stay in cover, shoot until I run out of ammo, and then…die.

This is really it. I'm barely a minute away from death. And I just feel calm. Ready. It could be the fever getting to my brain, the infection gnawing away at me, but I'm prepared for this. I'll never get my answers, never understand the vision, never see the Reaper invasion. And in a way, that doesn't seem so bad.

I ready my finger over the detonator. For the last time, here goes nothing.

Then I feel a pistol pressing against the back of my head. "Don't move," a female voice, and I slowly turn around, facing the person who's going to end it all for me.

**A/N: Most. Depressing. Chapter. Ever. You can tell it was raining when I wrote this.**

**Necessary, though. Things are coming to a close with the story…and believe it or not, we're onto the final case! One final, uber-case that's going to span a fair few chapters, but it's here nonetheless. Plenty of action, twists, romance, excitement, answers…I got it all planned out, and it looks like it's gonna be one hell of a ride. In theory.**

**With the final case looming, again, I want to say thank you to you all for sticking with the story this far. I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.**

**Oh, and I'm on holiday from Friday until Monday. Insane update rate shall continue when I get back :)**

**Until then!**


	44. Ian vs The Chew Toy

Chapter 44

Snow Patrol: Called Out in the Dark

**October 13th, 2185  
****3:24pm, Omega time  
****Archangel's hideout**

It's been just under nine months since we dealt with Zel, the quarian serial killer, and Evan Carter got himself shot. What felt so vivid back then…I can still remember it, but a lot happens in nine months. Especially when you're on a merc-hunting, shipment-sabotaging, vigilante super squad. That was never gonna lend itself to boredom.

Jaroth's eezo operation didn't take too long to crumble after Butler and I killed Ripard, meaning we've been able to focus elsewhere in the months we've had. We broke up a Blood Pack slave ring, which was satisfying, even if they've got plenty more, and repeatedly fucked up Blue Suns attempts to restart red sand exports via large explosions. We foiled this volus saboteur that Eclipse hired to try and bring the power network under their control, too. Little guy was called Har Urek, really arrogant, thought he'd just be able to stab Eclipse in the back and bring everything under his own control. Then Garrus hacked his suit to make it malfunction and kill him. Irony's a bitch.

So, it's been business as usual, I guess. I mean, the fact that constitutes to 'business as usual' is fucked up, but oh well. It also turned out that a couple of days after Evan died, some news reports filtered in rumours of an asari justicar briefly visiting Omega, most likely Samara, so I'm sure she's going to be very happy to see me when we meet up. Speaking of the Mass Effect 2 cast, Tali and I haven't really talked much since the break-up. The odd courtesy message, and she told me the Flotilla easily managed to repel a Cerberus attempt to board the Idenna, but not more video calls or anything. To be honest, that works fine for me. We've both got our own things to focus on, and awkwardness between us isn't going to help with that. We're moving on, and there's no point interfering.

More importantly, I know it's drawing close to the time of Shepard's return. Garrus knows it too. What he doesn't know is that, ever so soon, we're going to be betrayed. After coming so far with the squad, it's almost impossible to believe, but I know it's true.

Not that I'm going to let it go quite like it's supposed to. No way am I leaving my friends here to die. I can't stop it altogether, the impact would be too great, but…I can at least warn them once the call comes through. In theory. Maybe we won't even get betrayed, so I don't know.

It hurts a bit, thinking it's all drawing to an end. All the friends I've made, with Erash, Laet, Monteague, Butler, the others, even Melanis…though the fate of colonies and stopping the Reapers is more important.

Well, I'm debating whether or not it's more important than Ghost. The previously skinny albino varren has been fed up nicely, and he now has a permanent residence next to my bunk. Oh, and he follows me everywhere around the house, purring for attention, getting me to play with him, everything like that. I've always been a sucker for getting attached to animals, and Ghost's definitely no exception. The cuddly little guy. It makes me smile just thinking about him.

Besides, Omega's not over yet. I've still got some time left with the squad. Whether that's a good or bad thing varies from person to person. Grundan Krul still wants to find something wrong with me, and he's getting dangerously close. I almost had a vision in front of him the other day, barely managed to run to the bathroom before it took hold. But then there's people like Laet and Monteague, who's private joke I still haven't managed to work out, and Vortash and Sensat, who I just want to help. Sensat's actually integrating herself in the squad now, sitting at the table with the rest of us at meal times. She even told a joke the other day. It was shit, but still, massive points for effort. Vortash is never more than a few steps behind her, though, keeping her sheltered. Sensat's managing to accept the squad as her new family, but Vortash…he's still hanging onto being by himself, still sees Sensat as his dead daughter returned to him. It's tragic.

At least the rest of us are good. Even Melanis and I. She's been true to her word about keeping Evan a secret, and the two of us are on good terms. Training sessions even end up with us chatting these days, and the digs we make are light-hearted enough for us both to laugh. Before, we were working with each other because we had to, but now…after the Evan stuff, I think we're genuinely friends. Even if she'll still shout at me when I fuck stuff up, but no-one's perfect.

Everything's going quite well, actually.

That's what worries me.

It feels like there's a storm brewing. I've noticed Garrus changing over the course of us being on Omega, back to his old ways of looking for revenge rather than keeping focused on justice, but there's not been a major shift. Not the dramatic leap between ME1 and 2. Losing his squad will have contributed to that…but I expect there's more to it. Something that's just waiting to happen. This is combined with the fact Shepard's return is less than a month away.

Yeah. Storm's coming, alright. And I don't think there's a single person here who ain't gonna feel it.

##########

"Fuck, Phantom!" Sidonis shouts, diving into cover as I slide over the nose of a small cruiser and roll in next to him, lifting my scoped pistol and furiously pumping rounds into the operative's biotic power, quickly sending an Incinerate along with my bullets as the turian sprays assault rifle rounds next to me at the bastard. A Phantom. Agile, armed with an HVB, and unlike me they actually know how to use it. Plus they've got a biotic barrier powerful enough to stop a bloody tank.

True enough, our Phantom performs a beautiful side-flip out of the way of our bullets, turning towards the turian and I. "Ah, crap," we both say at once, backpedalling into the open furiously as the sword-wielding enemy turns its attention to the turian. "No, go for him!" Sidonis yells, shooting widely in panic as the Phantom suddenly breaks into a sprint, reaching him before he can dodge…and plunging the blade through his chest before he can stop it. Oh, shit!

"Laet, Monteague, we need help!" I call out, looking around frantically for them. Sidonis is lying still…as the Phantom cleans her blade off with a hand and looks to me. I lift my pistol again, but it just makes a hissing sound from the heat build-up, the weapon rendered useless by my lack of heat sinks.

"Relax, we're coming – oh, fuck, no we're not, they've got a huge mech over here!" I hear Laet say.

"I'm on my way," Monteague announces. "I just need to get past this small turret that's been deployed."

I turn my attention back to the Phantom dashing towards me, raising my fists as my HUD informs me Monteague's been incapacitated..

"Come on, you bitch, let's see -"

The sword's in and out of me before I can even say more, and I fall to the ground helplessly, bleeding out as I hear Laet and Monteague shout in panic…then nothing at all, save for a low droning noise as my vision turns red.

MISSION FAILED. WAVE 10.

"FUCK!" Sidonis screams, hurling his controller down in fury. "Every! Single! Time!"

"That does seem to be how it goes," Monteague sighs, placing his controller down in a significantly more gentle fashion as the game demo we're playing starts counting up our credits and experience points. "Those turrets appear to shoot through cover. Odd."

"That mech always comes out of nowhere!" Laet says, growling at the screen. "This isn't even the hardest difficulty!" He does have a point. The demo has three difficulty levels, Bronze, Silver and Gold. We're playing on Silver, and this is still practically impossible.

"At least we've beaten it once," I shrug, though I'm feeling a bit frustrated too. It was going so well…at least until the game decided to suddenly get incredibly cheap towards the end there. "Shit happens. And no-one glitched through the floor of the map this game."

"Oh, don't even get me started…" Sidonis mutters.

"I know I like to run a relaxed base," Garrus says, sounding amused as the four of us look behind to see him resting with his forearms on the couch, mandibles widened in a smile. "But I'm not keen on people swearing this early in the morning. At least not that loud."

"Garrus, if you played this shit, you'd understand," Sidonis says, standing up and clicking his mandibles in irritation. "I'm going to get some food."

"Are you comfort eating because you got beaten by a game?" I ask.

"Maybe I am," he shoots back, walking off as Garrus shakes his head and chuckles.

"What's gotten into him?" he asks, looking to the screen as it readies for the next match.

Ah, probably best if I explain. "This game company released the demo for this threequel everyone's been waiting for, so we decided to test out the multiplayer. Only issue is that the difficulty curve is through the roof."

"And you can only get the good weapons you need to survive through luck," Laet adds helpfully.

Garrus just gives us all odd looks, twitching his left mandible. "Well, I figured the console would get end up getting at least someone angry. Remember Wrex playing against Shepard?"

Monteague and Laet look confused at that, but I nod, bursting into laughter. Shepard absolutely destroyed Wrex in this turian sports game Garrus bought, Clawball 2183, I think. Long story short, Wrex ended up blaming the turian game for being biased, the salarian console for making the krogan lose, and probably would've hit the person playing if it was anyone but Shepard. We kept him away from games after that. "I'm not gonna forget that for a while," I nod. "So, do we actually have a mission for tonight?"

"I can get the med-bay ready for you if you do," Monteague sighs, giving me a pointed look. Monteague and I are pretty tight from all the time we see each other; it's just a shame most of that time involves me sitting in the med-bay while he stitches my face back on. "If we didn't have those credits from Williams, I would have had to stop treating you months ago."

"I'm keeping you in a job," I reply, grinning.

"And then some," Laet mutters. He always does seem to get annoyed when I take up Monteague's time, especially later on at night. They're always staying up, watching movies and stuff. Two totally hetero guys. Yep. "He barely has any time to treat me."

"But you don't get injured," I say. Garrus, Laet and Monteague all sigh, and I even hear Sidonis doing it from over in the kitchen. "What?"

"Never mind," Garrus says. "And we do have a mission lined up. A bit more than that, actually. I'll explain when Butler gets back from the store." Oh yeah…he went out about forty minutes ago to get the shopping in, so he'll not be back for maybe half an hour or so. Not exactly the most dramatic part of being a vigilante, but we've gotta eat. Someone needs to get the weekly shop in.

"Anyone fancy another game until then?" I ask. Laet and Monteague both shake their head.

"I fear Laet will go into cardiac arrest from stress if we attempt another round," Monteague says.

The turian nods. "Yeah. What, uh…what he said."

Aw, damn. Well, there's barely even any point in trying by myself, so I get up and power the machine down. "I guess I'll find some way to kill half an hour, then," I say, to no-one in particular. "Has anyone seen Ghost's chew toy?"

"I think I saw Grundan Krul with it," Sidonis shouts over.

"That's a piss-take, right?" I ask. Sidonis looks over to Garrus, mouthing something at the other turian. If I had to guess, it's probably along the lines of 'what is he talking about'.

"You're joking, right?" Garrus translates for me. Sidonis chuckles, nodding.

"Yeah, I just thought it'd be funny if you actually went and asked him for a chew toy." I roll my eyes at him. "I think Melanis has it."

That sounds more likely. Despite her initial protests, she's actually warmed to Ghost quite a lot. Little guy's melted pretty much everyone's heart, with his persistent cuteness and cuddly nature. I can barely believe he's a varren. "Guess I'll go and see her, then," I nod. These days, I actually enjoy our verbal spars, so it ought to be a nice way to kill the time. "Hopefully I'll be able to contain my anticipation for this mysterious new mission."

"Good, I wouldn't want you getting too excited for it," Garrus says sarcastically. "I'll page your omni-tool when Butler gets back."

"Cheers," I say, turning on my heel and striding off towards Melanis' room on the bottom floor, over near the garage. I make it within ten metres, ten agonising metres, when I a deep, gravelly voice addresses me from behind.

"Hello, honest liar."

It takes a fairly large effort not to launch a punch as I turn around and see Grundan smiling at me smugly, leaning up against the back of a sofa. How did he even get there? Can he turn invisible? "Hello, stalker."

"So, it turns out I'm not the only one who thinks you're hiding something," Grundan says, getting up off the sofa and walking slowly towards me. "I just had a chat with Sensat."

"And Vortash that let that happen?" I ask, folding my arms.

"He's driving Butler back with supplies," the batarian explains. Son of a bitch…

"Bit underhanded of you."

"I'm not taking a lecture from you about being underhand," he chuckles. Ooh, the punching hand is straining…I think the only thing keeping me back is the knowledge that he's kind of correct. "She told me about her little name for you. Cute."

"That's funny," I say, "because I remember telling Sensat that if she ever saw you, she was supposed to biotically punch you through a wall."

"Obviously she forgot," Grundan shrugs. "You want to try instead?"

It's sorely tempting. To just clock him one between those four eyes glaring at me. But he's just waiting for me to do that, show he's getting to me. "I'd rather not give you the satisfaction," I reply.

"That's too bad," the batarian mutters. "Honest liar. I know you weren't just investigating a serial killer when Butler called you. That whole time, you were up to something."

"And if this was the Citadel, I'd have you done in for slander," I shoot back. "You're paranoid, Grundan. Maybe you should go and see Monteague, he's a qualified psychiatrist."

Before I can react, the batarian's right up in my face, grabbing my collar with a hand and pressing his face up against mine. I can literally feel his hot breath on me, as my muscles tense up to push him off…then he lets go, laughing quietly. "Not a look of fear in there. If I was doing that unprovoked, you'd be scared. But you know I'm right, that's why you were ready to hit me back."

"Let me reiterate something to you," I say, taking my turn to step closer to him. "You're full of shit. Get help, Grundan. First step's admitting you have a problem."

"Same to you," he says back, grinning as he turns to walk away. "Same to you."

I stand and watch defiantly until he leaves…then sigh, turning back towards Melanis' room. One of these days, it's going to come to blows between us, I'm almost sure of it. He just hasn't let up these past few months, working out where I was when Butler called me after I faced Morinth, trying to find out who I could've been visiting. Fortunately, he's not turned up anything. Yet. Talking to Sensat and hearing the whole 'honest liar' thing isn't exactly going to lower his suspicions.

Shaking my head, I reach Melanis' door and hover my hand over the button to open it. At least talking to Mel might cheer me up, especially since she's the one person who actually knows the truth about what happened during the serial killer investigation. And the one person I've mentioned my problem with Grundan too. Hopefully she'll be happy to see me too.

I walk in, giving Melanis a warm smile as she looks up from the desk on the far right of her fairly spacious room, complete with double bed at the back, nightstand, wardrobe and overhead lighting. "Honey, I'm home!"

Melanis gives me a brief glare, but then suddenly breaks into a smile as well. "And you tracked in mud. How could you? I just cleaned," she says jokingly.

"You weren't supposed to go along with that," I frown.

"Trust me; I've learned by now that the best way to defuse you is to play along."

"Yeah, well...shut up."

The female turian grins even wider. "See? It worked." Well, this is a one-sided argument, so I'm just gonna change the subject. You win this round, Mel.

"So, I heard you have Ghosty's chew toy," I say

"Why do you insist on calling him that?" she asks. "Isn't 'Ghost' just fine?"

"Adding a y onto a name makes everything cute," I explain. Like Droney the Combat Drone, who I had in my Engineer playthrough.

Melanis just shakes her head, smiling. "Well if you start calling me 'Melly' you know I'll have to kill you."  
I smile back. "I wouldn't expect anything less." There's a pause, as I weigh up whether or not to call her 'Melly' just to get a reaction. "You don't even know how tempted I am to say it."

"I can make a good guess," she replies, still grinning. "Just remember: I'm the one in charge of your training."

"I didn't realise you could make it worse than it already is."

She just laughs at that. "You have no idea, Ian."

I fold my arms, despite the concept of training somehow getting worse scares the shit out of me. "Then enlighten me."

"Walk through a Blood Pack base with a shirt that says 'Krogan suck' without dying," Melanis deadpans.

"I'm sure they'd see the funny side," I shrug. "Garm's pretty chill."

"Then you have to give him a hug before you leave."

"Krogan love cuddles."

"Well why don't you test that next time you meet him?" she says. Fuck, I really don't fancy meeting Garm, ever…at least not unless I've got Wrex with me.

"Will do," I say, crossing my finger. "I'll take pictures."

"I wouldn't believe it otherwise."

I chuckle at that. "Fair enough. So, the chew toy. Unless you're too embarrassed to admit you've been playing with Ghost."

"And if I have been playing with Ghost?" she asks, almost coyly.

"Then I'm assuming you might have his chew toy." I say. "I know you have been, Sidonis told me. And I thought you were supposed to hate him."

Melanis scratches behind her fringe awkwardly. "Yeah, well...don't make such a big deal about it. The big oaf even makes Grundan smile. Sort of."

"Funny how you started hating him then ended up liking him. It's kinda like a metaphor for me," I chuckle. "Apparently all I had to do was loll my tongue out and run against your shins."

"I don't think it'd be nearly as cute if you did it."

"Well, probably not," I admit. "It's cool you're admitting Ghost's cute, though. And it's cool that you actually have a concept of cuteness."

Melanis gives me a look of mock-shock, smiling "Ian! That hurts. Why would you say such an awful thing? I don't go around saying you have no concept of subtlety."

"That's a lie, and you know it," I smile back. It's funny…a year ago, this would be genuine insults being traded. Now it's just banter. I much prefer it this way.

"Your point?" she asks.

"Lying's bad?"

"As you know full well already," Melanis says. Oh, damn it, she didn't need to bring that up…

I shake my head at her. "No need to remind me about that. Grundan's already mentioned stuff today."

"Is Grundan still on your case?" she asks, sounding concerned. "Same thing as always?"

"Trying to find out what it is I'm hiding. He's still suspicious about the serial killer investigation," I sigh. "It's fucking annoying, cos he's right."

"And this is what I told you would happen if you kept secrets from us," Melanis gently reminds me. "I understand why you did it, but it was still a stupid move."

God, thanks mum… "Yeah, but Grundan just wants some kind of dirt on me anyway. It's a personal thing, after Mierin."

Melanis sighs. "Is there anything Garrus or I could do to help?"

"No, that'll just make me look worse." I smile at her. "Thanks for offering to help. You always do."

Surprisingly, Melanis smiles back, stretching her mandibles out. Is it surprising, actually? We get along too well now for that to come as a real shock. "And you never take it. I'm starting to wonder if you don't like the idea of me helping you."

"Well, I don't want to concede a weakness to you," I point out. "It's not like you need any more ammunition."

"Good point. I don't need more ammunition." She pauses for a second to think. "So how are you gonna deal with him?"

"Who, Grundan? No idea. I'll think of something."

"I don't know. After that episode with Evan, I'm not so sure," Melanis says, her voice somewhat joking.

"Eight months and you still aren't letting that go, huh?"

"When that alone has enough ammo for me, why would I?"

"God, you're a bitch sometimes," I say, laughing. "Who's still hoarding that chew toy."

Melanis gives an exaggerated sigh, pointing in the vague direction of the bed. "Fine. It's over on the nightstand."

I go to pick up the pyjak toy, feeling a small twinge of jealousy at how ridiculously large her bed is. "Man, that's not even fair how you and Garrus get double beds."

"It's my house, remember?" she grins. "And Garrus is our great leader."

I laugh again. "I suppose so. Well, uh...thanks for the chew toy." I go back and stand by the door awkwardly, not sure whether to leave or try and continue the conversation.

Melanis seems to be having the same dilemma, eyes flicking between the door and me unsurely. "Um, sure...no problem."

"So, uh…it's nice talking to you," I say, smiling. God, that sounded dumb, didn't it?

"Yeah, anytime." The next sentence sounds almost…hesitant. "You know I'm here whenever you want to talk."

"I know," I nod. "It's nice having that, Mel. Seriously."

"And it's...actually nice to talk to you, Ian," she says, mandibles fluttering in a half-smile. "It's always interesting, at least."

"Well, I'd hate to deny you the fun of taking the piss out of me."

"I always aim to please."

"I'm sure you do." I shift from foot to foot, realising this is probably the ideal time for me to leave before things get any more awkward. "Well, the briefing's soon, and I don't want to keep Ghost away from his chew toy, so...I'll see you later."

"Alright," she nods, as I reach over and open the door. "See you around."

"See ya." I walk through and head back towards the stairs leading up to the dorm, where I'm ninety percent certain Ghost's going to be waiting next to my bed. Conversations with Mel always seem to end kind of awkwardly, like neither of us actually let it come to a natural finish by itself. Then again, we've never had much of a conventional relationship, so I shouldn't be overly taken aback by the fact that neither of us knows how to finish a conversation with the other.

The dorm room's lights are off when I walk in, since everyone else is out downstairs, so the room's only lit with a dull red glow from Omega's lights outside as I creep forward softly, holding the chew toy up in one hand. Ghost'll be in here somewhere…either sleeping, or hiding when he heard me come in. Either way, this'll set him off.

I squeeze the toy, making the pyjak give out a pathetic little squeak. With a sudden growl, Ghost bursts out from behind my bunk with his tongue out, and charges towards me, bowling me over as he snatches the chew toy out of my hand and starts happily gnawing on it, giving a happy purring noise as he looks up at me. "You win this round, then," I chuckle, stroking the top of his head as Ghost lies down, and the pyjak gives a series of short, sharp squeaks as he chews on it. "How're you doing?"

The varren nuzzles against my hand, loving the attention from his favourite person. I mean, he likes everyone, but he seems to prefer me for saving him from that base. It's cute. "You're getting big, aren't you?" I ask rhetorically, using both hands to tickle behind his ears. It's true. The previously skinny little varren's been all fed up, mainly from the leftovers when Butler cooks, so he rivals the size of any attack varren I've seen, minus the vicious disposition of one. Ghost wriggles his head, trying to get rid of the unseen force tickling him before he growls and rolls onto his back, batting my arms with his paws.

I laugh, letting him knock me off as he rolls back and butts his head into my chest, chew toy forgotten. I reach over and pick it up, getting to my feet and squeezing it. The sound drives him crazy, and he jumps up on both legs to try and snatch it out my hand as I turn around to the window overlooking the floor below…and catch sight of Grundan walking towards the kitchen.

I look back at the chew toy.

He deserves it.

"Grundan!" I shout, launching the toy out of the window and laughing like an idiot as Ghost hurtles out after it, leaping up and slamming his front paws into the batarian's chest. Grundan quickly throws the toy away towards Erash, who's more than happy to play with Ghost as he shoots me a _vicious _glare, stalking off towards the sofas. Just as my omni-tool buzzes. Ah, that'll be Garrus paging everyone to come to the meeting…which explains why the entire squad is congregating on the sofas.

I quickly jog out the dorm, sliding down the banister of the stairs and vaulting over the back of a sofa to sit next to Erash and join in with petting Ghost, as Vortash and Sensat take their seats and Garrus clears his throats, the typical sign for 'give me all your attention, now'. Everyone dutifully does. Except Ghost, who's trying to gum on my hand.

"So, I'm sure you're all curious to why I called you here," Garrus says, standing up and going over to the holographic display we have installed on the table that sits in the middle of the circle of sofas. Ooh, he's using the display? That means he's actually put some effort into this one…

"Aye," Butler says sarcastically. "Loads."

"So there's been a few more weapon shipments than usual recently," the turian starts to explain, turning on the display and ignoring the Scot. "That made me suspicious." He's got a point there. We usually carry out regular raids, intercepting a few targets, but the choices we've had have gone up a noticeable amount recently. "Then I saw that the Jakarta district, which used to be controlled by those Guns 4 Less idiots?" We all nod our head at that, chuckling. Guns 4 Less was a bunch of idiots who came to Omega to live the merc dream, and probably win my personal award for the worst criminal group ever made. Even if they were pretty funny. "They were all gone. Taken over by people in white armour suits with a shield logo on the arm. And then I saw this a few days ago."

He points us all towards the display, where an advertisement seems to be displayed. _Whiteguard Mercenary Group. If you've got a job that needs doing, get the people who'll get it done. Cheap rates, professional contractors, no bullshit. Satisfaction guaranteed. _The ad then proceeds to list contact details, while the somewhat imposing white shield stays superimposed into the background. "They're not very talkative adverts, are they?" Laet comments. "I didn't realise the word cost was so expensive these days…"

"Here's how I see it," Garrus says, drawing attention back to the matter at hand. "There's this human idiom about what kind of enemy is worst...something about devils?"

"The devil you know is better than the one you don't," I say. Garrus nods his head as I look around to the confused alien faces. "Basically, we know what to expect with Eclipse, the Blood Pack, the Blue Suns. These Whiteguard guys, we don't know what they're capable of. They're wildcards. And having three merc groups running around is bad enough without a fourth one joining in the fun."

"Considering the increase in shipments, they're buying enough for a small army," Garrus explains. "If they _have _a small army, then it's only going to get bigger. If they're just starting out, that means they're vulnerable. We need to stop this before it gets any bigger."

"Do we actually have a plan to do that?" Weaver asks, looking around. "Because an advert isn't good enough intel."

"And that's where you come in," Garrus says, looking at me. "I'd be really surprised if Aria hadn't heard anything about this Whiteguard group."

"So would I, but that doesn't mean she'll help us," I say. "Do we actually have anything to negotiate with?"

"You'll think of something," Garrus shrugs.

"So that's a no, then."

"Everyone stand by your stations until Ian turns up some intel on a shipment," Garrus says, and everyone stands up to get ready.

"Whoa, whoa," I say, holding up my hands. "What if I can't?"

"Then we hit one of the spaceports they frequent and hope we can get lucky, pull in one of their people, and get information from them instead," Sidonis says, before Garrus can reply. "Going to see Aria at least gives us a chance of having a target here. Didn't you say she liked you, anyway?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't give me a free pass to get information. She usually wants something in return."

"Can you no' turn on that roughish charm of yours?" Butler asks, making Melanis laugh.

"That's sarcasm, right?" I ask.

"Aye."

Annoyingly, they are right. I may as well just check with Aria to make this easier on all of us, and…hello, my omni-tool just went off. I left the display up…and it's from Grizz.

_Aria wants to see you. Now._

"Guys, I think Aria's either bugged the place, or she's inside my head," I say, turning around. "She just got Grizz to ask me to meet her."

"Maybe we can exchange what she wants with information on Whiteguard," Garrus suggests.

"Maybe we should wait to see what she wants in the first place," I mutter, looking to Vortash. "You alright to give me a lift?"

"I want to go too," Sensat suddenly says, looking up at Vortash, who returns her stare with one of protective alarm. "I want to see outside the house."

The turian seems unsure…but to be honest, it'll be good for Sensat to get out, so I'm all for it. Plus I can actually tell her to punch Grundan through a wall next time she sees him. "I'm just popping in to talk to her, then leaving. No guns, no fighting. We're just gonna be in and out."

Vortash looks between her and me for a few seconds, then sighs. "Fine." Sensat beams happily at him, and he can't help his mandibles stretching out in a tired smile too. Aww…

"Radio ahead if you get any information," Garrus says. "Oh, and just for reference, you're not going to find any info between an asari dancer's breasts. Right, Butler?"

"Fuck you," Butler shouts over from the fridge. I laugh, but the joke appears to be lost on Vortash and Sensat. Oh well.

"I'll get my inconspicuous armour set, and we can get going," I say, turning back around to walk to my locker. "I'll meet you two by the shuttle." Vortash gives me a serious nods, while Sensat walks after him, practically jumping up and down at the chance to be able to go outside. Grinning to myself, I grab the gear, then head to the showers and changing room to get prepped.

Not just an individual target this time. We're gonna take down a whole merc group.

Guess that storm's coming sooner than I thought.

**READ THIS A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, and I need to explain why. **

**Basically, I was hoping the two day update rate would mean I could get everything done before I need to start studying hard for my exams, but I've ran the numbers and there's absolutely no way that's going to happen. Now, as much as I love this story and you guys, these exams decide which universities I'll be able to go to. This is a big deal. So, unfortunately, they need to take priority from now until they're over. Combine that on top of the fact that keeping up the two day update rate was stressing me out to the point of near depression, and…yeah, I had to draw the line somewhere.**

**The story isn't dead, let me make that _very _clear. But from now until about July, I won't have a fixed update schedule. I'll write when I get free time and stuff, but it may be a while between updates. Again, I'm sorry about this, but I need to focus on things other than the story right now. If anything, more time'll help me generate ideas and keep the story good, so that's an upside to it.**

**Anyway, I hope you understand, and thanks in advance if you do. I just figured it would be best to tell you all, rather than disappearing off the face of the earth for a bit, haha.**

**Thanks for your continued reading and support. It genuinely does mean the world to me.**

**Next chapter, whenever that may be, visiting Aria! With Vortash and Sensat! See you next time!**

**P.S: At least be grateful I didn't leave it on a cliffhanger.**


	45. Ian vs The Identity

Chapter 45

The Fray: Little House

"This your first time out the house?" I ask Sensat, nearly shouting over the sound of the engines as Vortash brings us towards Afterlife. A lot slower than usual, I might add. Normally he's all for driving in oncoming traffic, driving sideways between buildings, barrel rolls, the works, but he's obviously taking care cos of Sensat riding with us. Which is nice, I guess, though a little worrying in showing how much he cares about everyone else.

"No," Sensat says, dressed in a simple t-shirt and combat trousers combo. While Vortash and I are both armed with handguns, everyone decided it was probably best we didn't give Sensat a gun. She's come a long way since finding her in the Eclipse facility, but her holding me at gunpoint still makes me a bit sketchy. A little voice in the back of my mind is reminding me she'd probably be able to take my gun and blow my head off before I could even react, so I guess giving her the gun in the first place would just cut out the middle man… "Vortash has taken me in the shuttle before, to see what Omega's like."

"It's too dangerous out there," the turian replies gruffly, looking back in the pilot's seat to glare at me. He really does take the whole 'protective parent' thing to a whole new level, doesn't he? Especially since, you know, he's not actually Sensat's dad. Though that'd be one hell of a twist if he was, come to think of it, biological impossibility be damned.

"Well, with you glowering at everyone who gets within twenty metres of her, I'm sure she'd be fine," I reply cheerily, standing up and resting a hand on the back of the turian's chair. Vortash lets out a small growl, tilting the shuttle just enough to make me stumble while he and Sensat are fine in their seats. Ass. "Looking forward to seeing Afterlife?" I ask, turning back to my seat and looking at Sensat.

"I've heard all about it," she says, sounding excited. "Butler told me about Afterlife once. He said there were all the different species in there, krogan, asari. I've never seen them up close."

"You might want to keep it that way in regard to krogan," I say, before Vortash can give the same warning. "They're not usually the friendliest people. And the asari in Afterlife…" I give her a quick look up and down. "How old are you?"

Sensat looks unsure, turning to Vortash for help. That…makes sense, I suppose. From the files we took from the facility where we found her, Sensat had been in captivity for almost two years, and was a street kid. No parents. Whenever her birthday actually is, I'm not surprised she can't remember it. "She's eighteen," Vortash says.

"Well, you must've seen asari on the Primarch and the General, right?" I ask. Sensat nods. "The ones in Afterlife aren't quite as regal."

She gives me a confused look, furrowing her brow. "I don't understand."

"Once we get there, trust me, you will," I say, chuckling. I'm the only one. I sigh, picking my helmet up off the floor and fixing it on as I feel the shuttle begin to descend. It sucks being the only one on the shuttle with a sense of humour. At least one that's developed beyond turian sitcoms. "Which should be any minute now, right?"

"I'm bringing us down now," Vortash says gruffly. "This isn't going to take long, is it?"

"I didn't realise you had somewhere to be," I reply. "What, hot date waiting for you back at the base?" Even Sensat giggles at that, which just seems to piss the turian off more.

"I just don't want to be in Afterlife for long," he says. And by that, he means he doesn't want Sensat in there for too long. I'm not sure if I'll ever say Sensat is 'better' from what she's been through, but there's been massive improvement. Vortash still treats her like the day we found her. As if she's still like his daughter.

"Well, for what it's worth, I don't want to have to talk to Aria for too long either," I shrug, as the shuttle touches down. "So I guess it works out for both of us if we make this quick." The doors open, letting Vortash and I hope out on the right hand side, while Sensat gets out on the left. Before he can walk around to see her, I quickly grab his arm, making Vortash's furious eyes whip around to stare at me. "Let her have some fun while we're here, alright? God knows she could do with it."

The turian yanks his arm free, growling in response. "She's not your responsibility," he snaps, before walking off towards Sensat. I roll my eyes behind his back, breaking into a small jog to catch up with them. Well, even if Vortash is determined to be a killjoy, I'm at least gonna let Sensat have at least one drink. No heavy liquor, just something to give her a taste of life outside of the base. Sooner or later, that's something she's gonna have to face.

Right now, though, Sensat seems a lot more preoccupied facing the elcor bouncer. I give the guy a quick nod, quickly ushering her and Vortash past accompanied with annoyed cries from queuing customers as we walk into the antechamber. Sensat immediately flinches. "Why are the walls on fire?" she asks.

"It's a hologram," I say, grinning to myself. "Relax. Even Omega isn't that lax about health and safety." Sensat just nods, staring at the walls in wonder as we continue onwards. Seeing her is reminding me of my first time in Afterlife…so seeing the reaction when we enter the main area is gonna be great.

True enough, as the double doors slide open, Sensat's face melts into a smile as she slowly steps forward and looks around in wonder. Not at anything or anyone in particular, just the bright lights, the noise, the people, the sheer atmosphere. Place is heaving with people tonight as well, which is pretty cool. "If Omega does one thing right, it's nightclubs!" I shout to her over the noise, almost getting crushed by three dancing turians as we push towards the bar.

Sensat doesn't even reply as she sits down, attention now diverted to the brightly coloured bottles as Vortash sits right next to her, glaring around at everyone. "Get a drink, I'll only be a few minutes," I say to her, narrowing my eyes at Vortash. The turian sighs, but turns to ask Sensat what she wants as I step away and look towards Aria's booth. At least Vortash is loosening up a bit. Emphasis on 'a bit', but it's better than nothing.

I try to squeeze past an asari and a quarian with limited success, eyes roving around the place. Grizz is tapping his foot as he stares at me, which just incentivises me to walk slower, and look back at Sensat, who's now receiving some purple drink. I'm about to look away when I notice a krogan looking at her, but Vortash's picked up on it too, baring his teeth as he shuffles closer to the human girl. I smile as I continue on, and the krogan retreats back to his own drink. At least the overprotectiveness can be useful sometimes.

"About damn time you got here," Grizz flanges.

"Our relationship really went downhill when I stopped having to pay you to get in here, didn't it?" I ask rhetorically, brushing past the growling turian and up to Aria. "You really do pull in the crowds, don't you?" I say, as she turns to face me, usual confident smile somehow stretched even wider.

"It helps when you make sure all the competition is taken care of," the asari says, gesturing to the sofa as I flop down adjacent to her.

"I'll bear that in mind if I ever go into the entertainment industry," I reply.

"Fine by me," she shrugs. "Just don't do it on Omega, or I'll get you thrown out of an airlock with my name stamped onto your forehead." I raise an eyebrow at that, not really sure what to say. Silence ensues for a few seconds.

"So…you called me?" I finally ask, trying to settle into a more comfortable position, which is difficult considering the threat she just laid down. I'll mention wanting to see her myself later. This way, she's asking me for a favour, rather than the other way around. "I assume it wasn't just for my conversation and sparkling wit?"

Aria chuckles, glancing down at the ground then back at me. "I have other people I can call for that." Oh, ouch. "This is business. You've heard of Whiteguard?" I open my mouth to reply, but she quickly holds up a hand. "What am I saying, of course you have. Considering the amount of attention you spent on those Guns 4 Less idiots, I imagine their replacements won't have escaped Archangel's attention."

"I know of them," I say, trying to sound aloof and mysterious.

"Don't try and sound aloof and mysterious," Aria says. "You're not good at it. They've been around for at least a week right now, and considering you haven't made a strike against them…I'm guessing you're short on intel." I fold my arms, leaning back. Aria always does this. She tries to make it sound like she's working this out as she goes along, but I know damn well she already had her information planned out hours before I got here, working out how to gain the advantage before the conversation even starts. If life's a game, then Aria T'Loak isn't happy unless she's at least two steps ahead of everyone else.

"Well, if you want to throw us a bone about them, I'm not going to complain," I say, leaning back and folding my arms.

"Weaponry shipment," Aria says bluntly. "Tonight, ten pm. I can get Grizz to forward you the NavPoint, the specs of the transport ship, and the manifest too, if you ask nicely."

"Uh-huh," I say cynically. "This is all completely free, I assume." Aria stares at me, giving the usual smile. I sigh, knowing I came into this one on the backfoot. One of these days, I'm gonna have to get her back. "What do you want from us, Aria?"

"Well, this particular shipment caught my interest," Omega's queen says, leaning closer to me. "We intercepted the order. Your usual standard weaponry sets, Avenger rifles, Predator handguns, a few Katana shotguns." She suddenly clicks her fingers, as if remembering something. "Oh, and four Maelstrom bombs."

The mention of Maelstrom bombs makes me snap to attention. They got nick-named 'building busters' back at C-Sec, releasing a blast with relatively small radius, but extreme intensity. Placed in structural weak points, or just about anywhere, and they'd take down even the sturdiest of structures. They were a terrorist favourite on the Citadel, since bringing an entire skyscraper building down would have more effect than a standard bomb ever could.

Maelstroms were considered so dangerous, they actually got outlawed in a disarmament treaty…about ten years back, I think. The turians, salarians and asari were the ones hanging onto them, so pretty much the entire stock got destroyed after that agreement. Naturally, a few were 'liberated' from the disarmament process, meaning they're floating around the black markets for a ridiculously high price. Four of them…that's some serious moolah.

We had a couple bomb scares on the Citadel when I was working there with Garrus, nothing we ever got involved in…but I know enough for the name to worry me. Especially with a mercenary group I only just heard about. "Well, you're not the only one who's had their interest caught by that," I finally say. "Maelstrom bombs are bad business."

"In the wrong hands, yes," Aria nods. "Which is why I need your help. Putting them into the right hands."

I laugh sarcastically, shaking my head. "If that means bringing them to you, I think we have two very different definitions of 'safe hands'."

"You need to agree to help me before I give you the NavPoint," Aria shrugs. Damn it, I told Weaver the deal probably wouldn't be worth it…

"And we can find other shipments," I say. "Price of this one is too high. If you really need those bombs, you can get them yourself. As much as I know you hate to stick your nose into mercenary business."

"I don't need to step on toes when I've got you to do it for me," Aria says, her voice dangerous as her grin grows even wider. "Mr. Shaw."

I'm halfway through some witty retort when I realise what she just said, and the words catch in my throat. How the fuck? "Who?" I ask, trying to stop my voice shaking as I look around.

Aria narrows her eyes in frustration. "Don't play dumb. You're Ian Shaw, ex C-Sec detective, Contraband. You worked with Commander Shepard in her mission against Saren, received a medal of recognition from the Alliance for said mission, rumoured to be romantically involved with-"

"Don't bother finishing," I growl, getting to my feet. She knows. She fucking knows, and denying it isn't going to work. I don't even know what to do, deciding to follow my anger and leave before I _really _flip out. "We're done here."

"Are we?" Aria asks, sounding amused. "Because as soon as you leave this club, it's going to be_ very_ hard to stop that kind of information leaking to the mercenary groups." I turn to look back at her, breathing heavily, but sit back down, knowing I've got no choice. "Good," the asari nods. "I was hoping to hold that back, but you forced my hand."

"Hold it back?" I gasp, hands balling into fists. "How long you have you known for?"

"A few months now," she replies non-chalantly. "I've been saving it for a situation like this. There was footage of you coming of the shuttle from the Citadel, and that armour set you had?" She shakes her head, tutting. "That was stupid. It didn't take long to make the links. Ian." She says my name like some kind of sick pleasure.

"First names are for friends," I spit. It's incredibly petty, but any kind of resistance I can put up now feels like a small victory. Or at least, it does until Aria laughs. That laugh crushes the illusion of mean getting any kind of victory right now.

"Fine then, Shaw. Makes no difference to me," Aria says, leaning back with the smug expression of someone who has their foe by the balls. "Plus, considering how close you are with Archangel…well, it's not a big stretch of the imagination to work out who he might be. I can keep a secret, though. Assuming you help me."

"Well, it doesn't look like I've got much of a choice here, does it?" I snap. I should've seen this shit biting me in the ass. And I shouldn't have been dumb enough to think Aria would ever help me without something in it for her. That cold, calculating bitch… "I can't just take some bombs from under the nose of Archangel _and _Whiteguard."

"Well, if you want your identity to remain a secret, I'm sure you'll work something out," Aria says.

"Thanks, that's really helpful," I say sarcastically, trying to keep up the illusion of not freaking out. What the fuck do I do? Keeping a secret from the squad didn't help last time with Evan…but if anyone like Grundan finds out, I'm done. I have to tell Garrus. And since Melanis is so eager to help…it probably wouldn't hurt to tell her either. Then again, what if they're not prepared to hand over weapons to Aria? She might be on our side, sort of, but she's still extremely dangerous. And if our identities get out…we're all screwed.

I don't know what to do.

"Don't be a sore loser," Aria says mockingly. "The NavPoint's been sent. What you want to do with it is up to you. But make the right choice, Shaw."

"I didn't realise I had one," I reply, feeling like a knuckle's gonna pop from how hard I'm clenching my fists. "We're through, Aria. Whatever happens after I do this, don't expect any more deals between us."

"Oh, did you think we were friends?" she asks. "We have mutual goals. That doesn't mean I make concessions for you. Besides, you'll come back. With this information…well, you have to." Oh, I've had enough of this. I'm not in a position to fight back, so I just need to leave before I do anything I regret.

"Never thought we were friends," I say, as I turn to leave. "Just didn't think you were this much of a bitch."

"Your mistake," Aria says, smiling as I walk out of the booth and back down the stairs. Just…fuck! How the hell did I expect her not to twig on it because of the personalised armour? I can't not tell anyone again either, not after what happened with Evan, so this is going to be somewhat awkward when I get back to Garrus. Though I don't think he can be as angry with me as I am at myself.

I suddenly feel something collide with me, and look down to see Sensat bump off my shoulder, the slightly smaller girl intently focused on Aria's booth. "Sensat," I say quickly, grabbing her arm as I see Vortash making his way over, mandibles flexing in a familiar worried expression as he gets stuck between a party of humans and a couple of asari. Well, obviously he didn't give her permission to do this… "You can't go over there. Those turians and asari aren't here for the party."

Sensat shakes her shoulder, pushing me off with surprising force as she continues on her path towards Aria. "Hey, Sensat, what the hell?" I snap, grabbing her shoulder again to spin her back around. "I'm serious, we just need to go-"

One second I'm talking to the frowning girl, then I'm flying back a fair few metres before hitting one of the humans and crashing to the floor as Sensat pulls back her fist, which is glowing blue from biotic energy. The music in Afterlife continues playing, but the usual talk and raucous shouting stops in an instant, everyone turning to look at the girl glowing blue. Even for Afterlife, this is unusual. Groaning and winded, I sit up, unable to help my eyes drifting past the bar…when I notice something.

That krogan who was looking at Sensat has gone. It's only been five minutes, and he had a full drink the last time I saw him. Just before she flips out. The girl who we found in a research facility, that we know had some kind of invasive surgery in her head.

This can't be good, can it?

Sensat's turned around again, and she's making eye contact with Aria, who's looking down at her from her booth, usual smile replaced with a look of fury. Is this really happening? I'm about to get to my feet, but a sudden thought stops me.

Sensat's obviously out to kill Aria, for some reason. The only person who knows my identity.

It'd be very simple to just not get up, say I was too winded to do anything…

Grizz has ran up to Sensat with his gun up to try and knock her down, but he's severely miscalculated. Sensat grabs him by the chest before he can act, flipping him over her shoulder with biotics…then turns around and kicks him in the back just before he hits the ground, sending the poor turian hurtling down into the lower area of Afterlife. She pauses for a second to catch her breath…just as I catch sight of Anto pointing an assault rifle at her.

I can't let Sensat die. And Aria gone…that'd end up causing more problems than if she was alive. Damn it! I pull my pistol from my hip quickly, taking less than a second to line up the shot and pull the trigger on Anto's lightly armoured leg. The bullet pierces through, making him fall and howl in pain, firing his rifle wildly in the air.

That's when the screams start.

In an instant, people of every species focus upon one thing. The exit. I'm barely up to my feet before the surge of patrons comes straight at me, threatening to knock me over again as I try to push through the throng. Vortash is already well ahead of me, just tanking his way through the crowd as Sensat moves slowly towards the steps up to Aria's booth, her steps stumbling. Like she's doing something she doesn't want to.

Aria doesn't seem bothered by that, though, hence the small group of her troops massing at the top of the stairs, shotguns facing down to Sensat. "Don't shoot!" I yell, but my voice is insignificant amongst the screams and shouts, and Vortash is nowhere to be seen. I'm pushing against a wailing asari as Sensat moves into the line of fire…and Vortash dives out of nowhere, tackling her to the ground and sliding beneath the booth's raised surface as Sensat struggles in his grip, biotics flared.

Vortash is practically thrown off, but the turian grips tightly, and I can see him frantically saying something into Sensat's ear as I finally clear the crowd. With Sensat gone from the steps, one guard slowly starts making his way down to where Vortash and Sensat are, shotgun at the ready. Oh no you don't…

I squeeze my handgun's trigger, sending a round harmlessly into the stairs next to the guard, but it's enough to make him hop back as I hit cover behind one of the tables on the edge of Afterlife. Any causalities, and the fragile peace with Aria is going to hell…so I just need to keep them suppressed.

The guards seem to have the same idea about me, though, as a hail of bullets makes me flinch behind cover, whizzing past my head. Sensat's still struggling as Vortash clings to her tightly on the floor, but they seem to be weakening as the turian keeps talking, saying something I can't identify as I stick my arm out and blind-fire in the general direction of the guards, deliberately aiming high.

"Bollocks," I hiss, as the heat sink sizzles and I pop it out the grip of the gun, reaching to my armour's belt and slapping in the spare one. Seventeen rounds left… "Vortash!" I yell into my communicator. "We need to get out of here, now!"

The turian doesn't reply, my words not even breaking his flow as he keeps talking to Sensat. Her struggling's almost completely stopped now, biotic blue fading as her eyelids seem to droop. I lean out to assess the situation, seeing all the guards still pinned in the booth…then yelp in pain as a bullet hits my forearm, causing me to spin back into cover. Shit, I'm used to the shields on my good armour!

"I'm ready," Vortash suddenly says, and I look over to see Sensat apparently unconscious, and the turian getting ready to lift her.

"Alright, when I say go, take her and run out the door," I say, checking my magazine readout. Ten shots. One for every ten metres, I'm thinking. "I'll cover you. Go!"

Vortash scoops Sensat up and breaks into a full sprint towards the door, keeping low and hunching over Sensat protectively. The guards immediately look out at him, opening fire, but it's short-lived as I spring out of my position and start firing right back over my shoulder. Vortash reaches the door before I do, feeling a shotgun blast eviscerate the table and sofa right next to me as it slides open. "Run!" I yell, emptying the clip before turning and sprinting with the turian and Sensat, the weight in his arms slowing him enough for me to keep pace.

It takes a few seconds to clear to the fire hall, and the three of us burst out into the Omega night, pushing and shoving through the crowds staring at the building, trying to see what's going on. I hear turian shouts from behind us…and look over my shoulder to see the security team following us. Security team with no uniforms.

"They're Council spies!" I yell, gesticulating wildly at the guys with guns, taking a gamble on the combined intelligence level of the crowd. It pays off. One krogan goes for a punch on the lead turian, and…well, it's chaos from there. Vortash and I keep running though, as the guards smart enough to stay out of the fight open fire.

Ten metres to the shuttle, and Vortash opens the doors from his omni-tool…then grunts, staggering and practically falling into the street and falling into the driver's seat, Sensat slipping out of his grasp and onto the shuttle floor as I hurl myself in.

"Vortash!" I yell, slamming the door to close the shuttle doors and moving up front to the unmoving turian. He can't be… "Vortash, no, come on…"

Out of nowhere, Vortash suddenly grunts, putting his hands on the console despite the wound bleeding blue onto the seat. "Flesh wound," he growls, even though it's clearly worse. He fires up the engine and takes off fine, though, and I sure as hell aren't going to try flying.

Sensat's still unconscious as I lay her into a seat, the sound of bullets pinging against the shuttle's exterior dying away as I take a deep breath, counting down seconds. Three, two, one…

My omni-tool beeps for an incoming call, which I answer immediately. "That wasn't my fault," I say.

"Then who's was it?" Aria demands, sounding genuinely angry for the first time. "I know that girl and that turian came in with you, it's on the security footage!"

"It's under control," I reply, trying to sound soothing. "No-one got killed, right?"

"You shot Anto!"

"In the leg, he'll be fine!"

"Grizz is barely breathing from falling a full story either!"

"Look, Aria, I had no idea that was going to happen," I say, trying to lower my voice and calm down as I look at Sensat. What the hell happened to her? "I'm sorry, okay?"

"You want to prove you're sorry?" she hisses. "You have three days to get me those bombs. Three days, or your name and Archangel's name goes viral. Clear?"

"Aria, listen-"

She hangs up.

Well.

Fuck.

**A/N: Wow, an update. Nice.**

**This doesn't mean I'm back, btw. This could be it for a month or so again, since I'm still in exam prep, it's just nice to get a chapter out. And this time, I _can _leave you on a cliffhanger! **

**Just to address a couple of things; ME3. I know what you're all thinking, so let me reassure. Masses to Masses will _not _be following the canon ending of the Mass Effect series. I'm not going to get all mad about the game itself, since I actually really enjoyed ME3 except for the last few minutes, but yeah. I'm sure some of you will be glad to hear that. That said, if you can all keep the review section spoiler free for those who haven't played/beaten ME3 yet, I'd really appreciate it.**

**Oh, and Masses to Masses 1 and 2 are now available in eBook form. The links to where you can download them (for free, obviously) are at the top of my profile page. **

**Well…I think that covers everything. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time! **


	46. Ian vs The Fragments

Chapter 46

Muse: Map of the Problematique

The whole squad is still sat around the living room table when I walk in, presumably waiting on the results of the meeting with Aria. The sound of me entering makes a few turn and smile…but the expression is quickly wiped from their faces when they see Vortash leaning on my shoulder, blue blood dripping onto the floor, and me carrying an unconscious Sensat in my arms.

It wasn't a good ride home. Despite Vortash insisting he was fit to fly the whole way, he's in bad shape. I left him for a few minutes to check Sensat was okay, then when I turned back around, there was a whole pool of blood on the seat next to him and his hands were shaking so much, he was barely able to keep the shuttle straight. If we'd flown a minute longer, I think he would've passed out, seeing as we practically plowed into the side of the base when he was landing, on top of the fact he can barely stand up straight now. He's stopped insisting it's a flesh wound, too. When a turian acknowledges a serious injury, you have a problem.

"Monteague, get the med bay ready, and can someone give me a hand here!" I yell, as the drell springs up from his couch and sprints off towards his room, drink clattering to the floor as Garrus rushes over and helps me hold onto Vortash, whose started dragging me down now that his legs have finally buckled. Melanis quickly grabs his other arm, heaving the weight off me as I let out a grateful sigh and reaffirm my grip on Sensat, the group of us heading to the med bay as fast as we can as the rest of the squad follow behind, small mutters of shock and despair following us as we get inside the whitewashed room. Garrus and Melanis heave Vortash onto a bed, the injured turian letting out a cry of pain as the sheets quickly begin staining blue. Fuck, that's not good, not good…

"What happened?" Garrus snaps, rounding on me as I carefully lay Sensat down in a separate bed. "I thought you were just going for information on-"

"Can I explain later?" I snap, turning to look at Monteague as he starts to work on Vortash, immediately working to stabilise the wound and blood flow. I've had my fair share of bullet wounds before, and I know that different types of weapons cause damage in different ways based off how the round splits upon impact…so I need to try and remember what hit him. "Uh…Monteague, he got shot with a pistol, I think."

"You think, or you know?" the drell asks, still staring down at the turian as he applies medi-gel around the edge of the wound before quickly turning around, grabbing various medical implements and chemicals that I'm completely clueless about.

"They had assault rifles, shotguns and pistols, I don't know!" I say back, trying to focus my mind as best I can and play back what happened, despite the sounds of Vortash groaning in pain, the whole squad staring at me for an answer, Sensat lying on a bed after she just tried to assassinate Aria fucking T'Loak… "I…erm…" I screw my eyes shut, trying to block everything out as I think. I know the shotgun guy definitely got caught up in the melee we started outside, and I heard a distinctive gun sound when he stumbled from being shot. "Avenger assault rifle," I say, my eyes flying open. "I'm sure." As sure as I'm going to be, anyway…

Monteague just nods, applying a different gel and looking up at Vortash. "If I try to give you anaesthetic, you'll bleed out before I can get this done. The gel is going to numb the pain a bit, but you should still use this." He holds up what looks like some kind of leather strip…oh, God, that's so Vortash doesn't bite his own tongue off, isn't it? Vortash quickly takes the strip in his mouth, nodding in acknowledgment, but his head is barely moving and his eyes seem to be drooping as he does so. "I need you three to hold him down," Monteague says, looking at me, Garrus and Melanis. We all exchange quick looks, then take positions; Garrus holding his legs, Melanis taking care of his arms, while I hold his shoulders. Apparently satisfied, Monteague hovers what looks like a pair of tweezers and another thin instrument, presumably for poking around inside of the wound. He's gotta remove the bullet fragments…fuck, this isn't going to be nice, is it?

Before any of us really have time to react, Monteague's started to work. Vortash lets out a muffled cry of pain, back arching up the three of us try to keep him held down as best we can can. Less than five seconds, and the drell's pulled out a fragment of the round, dropping it into a tray next to him as he moves in again. Vortash yells again, eyes staring up at me, almost pleading as I try to give him a reassuring smile and hold him. Monteague gives a little grunt, apparently experiencing some problems with one of the fragments, but pulls it out.

This time, Vortash doesn't yell out in pain. He doesn't push against our hands. His eyes don't look searchingly into mine. He just stops moving.

"Get away from him!" Monteague shouts, as I step back in shock, just staring at the lifeless body in front of me. This is my fault. I told him bringing Sensat along was a good idea, made him come into Afterlife…

I barely even register the drell placing defibrillator paddles on the turian's chest, barely notice the turian's body jolt and lie just as still as he was before, barely hear the paddles charging up for another shock. I can't believe this. First Mierin, now Vortash. Both down to me –

"Ian!" Monteague's yell brings me out my trance, as I see Garrus and Melanis pinning Vortash again. "Can we get this done before I have to resuscitate him again?" I scramble to retake my position, Vortash's whole body wracked with gasps of breath as his eyes dart around frantically…but he's alive. He just needs to stay that way. "One more…" Monteague says, tilting the tweezers…then extracts the last bullet shard, dropping it onto the tray and immediately grabbing some medi-gel to try and seal and disinfect the wound. Garrus, Melanis and I all step back, staring at Vortash in relief as the bullet hole starts to seal. The turian's still gasping in breaths, but the blood flow has almost completely stopped, and the cries of pain from him have stopped. Monteague looks at us, placing his tools in a disinfectant dish. "That's all the life threatening ones out," he says, standing and looking down at the turian whose life he just saved. "Assuming there's no complications and some time to recover, I think he'll be fine."

I breathe out a huge sigh of relief, and the adrenaline beginning to wear off makes me realise just how much I'm shaking. Not just my hands, my whole body, and I'm sweating profusely. Shit, I thought he was gonna die… "I'd check out Sensat too," I finally say. "She just tried to assassinate Aria."

"She _what?" _Garrus asks, eyes widening in shock as he raises his voice.

"If you want to shout, can you please not do it in a medical bay?" Monteague asks, anger obvious in his calm voice. He does have a pretty good point there. Vortash has already been shot and had his insides poked around by Monteague, so he doesn't really need Garrus and I having a domestic by his bedside. And I do need to talk to Garrus in private anyway…now that the Vortash crisis is over, the horrible feeling of the hanging Damocles sword that is my identity comes creeping back. Along with the Maelstrom bombs.

"He's right," I say to Garrus. "And I need to talk to you in private anyway."

"Then we'll go up to my room," he sighs, low growl escaping him. "And there'd better be a good explanation for this."

"Alright, Pallin," I say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood as we walk out. The others are regarding me with looks of curiosity as Garrus and I move towards the stairs, but they'll get an explanation in time. Though I'm not sure it'll be quite as detailed as the one I'm going to have to give Garrus. I don't even get a chuckle for the Pallin comment, though, and from the way Garrus walks into his room, I'm really kind of glad you can't slam doors these days.

"I told you to negotiate," he says, rounding on me as the door slides shut, real fire in his voice and expression, with his mandibles flared and teeth showing. "Negotiate. Then you come back, Vortash almost dies, and you tell me _Sensat _tried to kill Aria?"

Okay, so he's in angry Garrus mood. Too bad I know him too well to just roll over for that. "Look, things got out of control-"

"Oh, so that's what you call it?" he deadpans. "Out of control?"

"No, I'm calling it someone triggering Sensat to attack Aria," I snap. "You want to keep jumping to conclusions, or do you want me to explain what actually happened in there?" Garrus growls again, but doesn't indicate any opposition beyond that. "We went in and I talked to Aria, but we'll get to that in a bit. Vortash and Sensat came in to wait for me, and sat down at the bar. I saw this krogan looking at Sensat when her and Vortash got there. Then Sensat barged into me after I was done talking with Aria, shoved me out the way and went all crazy with biotics to try to get to Aria. Vortash managed to grab her and calm her down somehow, then we had to make some kind of escape, which is when he got shot. I know Sensat's not the most normal person, but do you really think it's like her to just try and kill someone like that?"

"So you think that krogan triggered her?" Garrus asks, sitting on the chair at his desk. "I'm assuming that's why you mentioned him."

"He had a full drink when I saw him looking at Sensat. Five minutes later, he's gone after half of whatever he was having, Sensat's turned into an assassin. We both know what they did to her in that base where we found her. Is it that implausible the krogan triggered her?"

Garrus just stares at me for a few seconds, then gives a small shake of his head. "It's not. And that would explain why she had all that combat training from her time in the base, the same with those incisions in her head…maybe this is what they were preparing her for."

"Hence me wanting to have Monteague take a look at her," I explain, then give Garrus a little smile, testing the water now he seems less irate. "Feeling calmer yet?" Considering the bombshell I'm about to drop, I sure hope he is…

The turian sighs, but nods back. "Yeah. Look, sorry for shouting. Vortash almost dying there just really scared me."

"You and me both," I say. "And I'm sorry he almost did. We didn't realise what Sensat was going to do until it was too late."

"She's a small human girl," Garrus says, managing a small chuckle. "I don't think any of us saw this coming, Ian."

I give a laugh as well, feeling a bit better to see Garrus return to some kind of normality. "Yeah, I guess not. And Aria's still on speaking terms with me." I ought to try and ease him into this…

"Really?" Garrus asks, sounding surprised. "Considering most people aren't on speaking terms with someone who was just part of an attempt to kill them, I find that hard to believe."

"Aria's not most people," I say. "But she's got a reason to stay involved with us." I frown, trying to think of how best to put this while Garrus looks at me expectantly. I hate the fact I fucked up like this. And I hate the fact that I need to admit that to him. We always have each others backs, so exposing him like this feels like…a betrayal, I guess. A disappointment. "She gave me the location of a Whiteguard weapon shipment, but she wants something in return."

"What?" Garrus asks. I know my face is giving away how I'm feeling, because his previously angry expression has softened into one of concern. "What's wrong?"

"The shipment's gonna have four Malestrom bombs in it," I explain, deciding to just go with getting the information out as quick as I can. "She wants us to hand them over to her."

"No," Garrus says simply. "It's not going to -"

"And we're going to do it, because if we don't, she's going to make our identities go viral."

Garrus pauses midsentence, mandibles and mouth still hanging open slightly. "I'm sorry," I say, feeling like absolute shit as he keeps giving me that look. "I'm so, so sorry. I know I fucked up, Garrus, really bad. She managed to trace me back because of the custom armour, and now we're fucked because of me being here, and -"

"Ian," Garrus says, interrupting me and looking directly at me. His normal expression is back, but the tone of his voice a lot softer than I was expecting. "Stop apologising. It's not your fault. We're going to sort this out."

"How?" I ask. "I mean, if our identities get out, the mercs are going to do everything they can with it. Find our friends, your dad, put everyone we know in danger."

"Then we give Aria the bombs and we try and work something out," Garrus says. "We have to. But you couldn't have known about the armour."

"We're detectives," I say, trying to laugh. "I should've known she'd be able to trace me back with something like that."

"And if you hadn't worn that armour, I would've shot you when we found you in that warehouse," Garrus says calmly, then laughs at my look of surprise. "What? You didn't think all those shots hit the mercs and not you from luck, did you? If we'd have wanted to kill you, we'd have done it."

"Wow, reassuring," I say, managing a little smile. Garrus does the same back, widening his mandibles in a friendly expression, and the relief I feel from that small movement is immense. Knowing that he doesn't blame me. "Garrus…not that I'm complaining, but why aren't you angry?"

"Oh, I am," he says. "Trust me, inside, I'm thinking about all the different ways to get revenge on Aria for this. There's no reason for me to be angry at you, though. You looked like you were going to be sick admitting that to me." He grins again. "I'm not that scary, am I?"

"Depends if you're having a good day or not," I smile back. Melanis was right, back with the Evan stuff. I should've just trusted my friends. "This is still a shit situation, though."

"Yeah, it is," he nods. "Did she set a deadline for getting the bombs to her?"

"Three days."

"Shit. Is it too much to hope she develops short-term memory loss and forgets our identities?"

"I think it might be."

"Then we help her. For now," Garrus says. "We don't have a choice. But we keep looking for a way to get out of this."

At least Garrus isn't giving up hope. Sign of a good leader. "I guess," I say. "I just really hate the idea of having to help Aria. If we start here, where does it end?"

"That's why we look for the way out," Garrus says.

"Right, that," I say, sighing. I'm still torn over this. Giving the bombs to Aria protects us, and more importantly the people the mercs could use to get to us. But really, giving her those bombs puts countless people on Omega in danger, potentially. I don't know. A Paragon and Renegade indicator would be really useful right about now. "What're you going to tell the squad?"

"Nothing. Not until I have to," the turian explains. "Maybe we'll have found a way out of this by then. If we haven't, then I'll explain everything. Unless there's anyone in particular you want to tell."

That makes me pause to think for a second. There is one person…asides from Garrus, the only one I know well enough to really, really trust. And whose help I could probably use right now. "I could do with talking to Melanis about it."

Garrus nods. "Alright. I trust her, and I suppose she is like a mentor for you. A mentor that hits you a lot."

"Something like that," I say, rolling my eyes. Telling Melanis about this does open me up to her having a go at me. But she helped me with Evan, so she can help with this. "I'll go and see if I can catch her in private."

"Good," Garrus nods. "I could do with some time to think things through."

"Alright," I say, then pause and smile at him. "Thanks for not freaking out and hurling me out the window."

"Well, I'm having a good day, like you said," he chuckles. "Go on. I need to start planning the mission for those co-ordinates Aria gave you."

"See you around, then," I say, turning and walking out the door, managing to smile to myself as it slides shut behind me. Through thick and thin, Garrus has always had my back, regardless of what's happened. I don't know why I thought that was going to change now.

The smile becomes a small frown quite quickly, though, as I mull over the Malestrom bomb issue again. My head and my heart seem to be having a bit of a conflict over the whole thing. Giving away the bombs is the logical right choice, but morally, it's completely wrong. Though I guess you could argue that putting Garrus' loved ones and friends in danger is as morally wrong as giving Aria the bombs…so by that reasoning, I'm fucked either way.

God, I'm really not helping myself.

"Anyone seen Melanis?" I shout, looking around the living room as I walk down. Pretty much the whole squad is there except for Melanis, Vortash, Sensat and Garrus, talking amongst themselves, but everyone bar Grundan looks up at me when I call down to them.

"I believe she went to her room after Monteague got Vortash stabilised, muttering something about finding out 'what that idiot Shaw has done this time'," Erash says, good humoured note to his tone.

"Aye, and she's no' the only one who's curious," Butler pipes up. "What happened in there?"

"Garrus'll brief everyone in a bit," I say, walking past the group towards Melanis' room. "And in more detail than I can really be bothered to go into. Just wait a little longer." There's a few grumbles of dissent, but it's all good-natured as I leave them behind and knock on the door to Melanis' room. The door lock's lit green, though, so I don't leave it too long before just walking in of my own accord.

Melanis looks a bit surprised at my sudden entrance, but I guess the fact she isn't yelling at me to get out is a sign of approval. Due to the distinct lack of chairs in her room, I just go and sit down on her bed with a sigh, while she stares at me from the handgun she was cleaning over in the corner.

"Well, that sigh doesn't sound good," she says. "I take it your talk with her bitchiness didn't go too well?"

"You could say that," I say. It's weird, but I'm less worried about telling Melanis what happened than I was with Garrus. Maybe that's because he took the news so well, but it probably comes down to how helpful she was with Evan and all of that stuff. Putting up with a few remarks at my expense is a fair price to pay for her help. "I think I fucked up, Mel."

"What happened, Ian?" she asks, tone suddenly becoming concerned and serious. "You're not the type to admit something like that unless it's really bad."

"You can't tell anyone on the squad about this, alright? We don't want to freak everyone out," I say. Melanis, thankfully, nods, and I know she'll keep it to herself if I ask. "Aria knows who I am," I explain. "And she knows who Garrus is too." Melanis' face does the same thing Garrus' did, mandibles and mouth both hanging open a little, but she recovers quickly and doesn't look like she's about to freak out on me. Thank fuck for that.

"Oh. Shit. How the hell did this happen?"

"She pieced it together months ago. Aria's just been waiting for the right moment to use them, damn it," I glare down at the floor, frustration kicking in again. "Worked it out from surveillance cameras and my custom armour. Working me out let her work out Garrus."

Melanis lets out a quiet growl, then pauses, obviously thinking of something. "So why did she decide to use it now?"

Ah, fair question. "She gave me the location of a Whiteguard shipment. They're pulling in Maelstrom bombs, and Aria wants them."

"Maelstroms?" Melanis asks, sounding even more surprised. The things do have bad reputations, mind, and for good reason. "Shit, this just gets better by the minute. So she knew you wouldn't agree to her demands. I take it she's threatening to let your identities slip if you don't?"

"Bullseye." I nod and sigh. "I'm torn. On one hand, we have to give her the bombs to protect ourselves. On the other, those bombs in her hands…I don't even want to think about it. I dunno what to do."

"Well, you already made one right move by _telling_ me about it," she says, her tone half joking. "Have you told Garrus?"

"Yeah. I went to him first." I quickly raise my hands. "No offence."

"None taken. How'd he react?"

"Better than I thought he would. But he's worried. About me and everyone we know that this puts at risk, even if he's trying not to show it."

Melanis nods. "Yeah, that sounds like Garrus. Did he make a decision about what to do?"

"He thinks we should give Aria the bombs," I say glumly.

Melanis stays quiet for a while, looking down at the floor and presumably playing everything out in her head, before she finally speaks up. "I think he's right. As much as I really hate the thought of that bitch having something as powerful as Maelstrom bombs, your identities are more important."

"But..." I say, for some reason still unable to accept this is the only thing we can do. "What if she blows up a building? We can't trust her with that, not with the damage it can cause…but I can't let my identity put people in danger either."

"I know it sucks, but think about it this way," Melanis says. "Aria could probably get the bombs without us. You know she has that kind of power. If she gets them anyway, we sure as hell won't let her reveal you and Garrus."

"I know we don't have a choice," I reply, unable to help the anger in my tone. As much as I like to think there's a call to make here about whether or not to give her the bombs, there really isn't. Melanis is right about her being able to get the bombs herself anyway, so denying her the Maelstroms isn't even a viable excuse anymore. "I just hate being backed into a corner by her."

"We all do, but one of the realities of working on Omega is dealing with Aria," Melanis shrugs. "I'd just as soon shoot her as talk to her, but I know we can't do that."

I look up at Melanis from my seated position, noticing she's walked a little closer to me. "I know it too." We pause in silence for a few seconds, until a small smile slips onto my face when I think of something. "So, you gonna lecture me on being a fuck up now?"

Melanis takes a mock deep breath, looking at me, then lets it out and shakes her head. "No. I could tell you that keeping your signature armour wasn't the best idea, but to be honest, even I hadn't thought of something like that. So no, you're not a fuck up, Ian."

"Wow," I grin. "That's a new one. Especially when I set you up that easily."

Melanis manages a smile back, flanging chuckle filling the room. "It was a little _too_ easy. I'll make up for it eventually."

"No doubt." I lie back on her bed before I can really think about it, just to try and relax, then look at up Melanis as I realise I'm basically taking over the room. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Go ahead. I'd want to relax after talking to the bitch, too."

"So," I say, realising I've lost count of the amount of times Melanis has referred to Aria as 'bitch' in the conversation, "I couldn't help but notice you hate Aria a lot. I mean, we all do, but more than average."

"Ever the detective, I see."

"That's more like it," I laugh. "But seriously, I'm just curious as to why."

"Aria represents everything wrong with Omega," Melanis explains, her predatory eyes narrowing. "The decadence, corruption, fear-mongering...everything." Her gaze slips onto mine, the anger replaced with sadness. "And more often than not, we're helping her."

I sigh. She's right, of course. Without us, Aria wouldn't have been able to do half the shit she's managed without stepping on a whole lot of toes. But in the same way, we wouldn't have been able to close down nearly as many mercenary leads, or stopped as much criminal activity as we have. It goes both ways. "I know what you mean. But would you rather have the Blood Pack in control, or her?"

"I'd rather that neither of them run things, but unfortunately I have to go with Aria. It's just that we fight these merc groups to make life here better, but that monster is still in power. And again, we often help her _keep_ that power."

"If you have an alternate solution, trust me, I would absolutely love to hear it," I shrug. Especially now she's done this to me. "Give me reassurance that putting a bullet in her head wouldn't cause this place to go to shit even more, and I'd be first in the queue to pull the trigger."

"I don't know..." Melanis says slowly, mandibles flexing in a grin. "You'd have to beat me to the front of the line."

"That'd be one hell of a fight," I reply, grinning back. "And to pre-empt what you're probably about to ask, no, I still don't want a sparring match."

"Aw, you don't think it'd be fun?" she says sarcastically, rolling her shoulders theatrically. "I've been waiting for so long to see if your training has paid off."

"See...I don't know," I say, sitting up and cracking my knuckles. "I reckon I could take you. I just don't want to give Monteague the trouble of having to fix you up afterwards."

"I don't think we'd have to worry about that...unless you're bleeding _too_ badly."

"Man, I hope you fight better than you smack-talk."

"And I hope your bite lives up to your bark."

"Yeah, well, it'll...uh...live up to my fist in your face." Melanis regards me with a look of amusement at that. Smooth, Ian, smooth… "Bollocks, I messed that up."

"Now whose smack talk sucks?"

"Hey, at least I'm acknowledging it," I say, standing up. The annoying thing is, now that she mentions it…I am quite curious to see I've managed to surpass her in any way. Or at least hold my own against after all this training. Despite my better judgement, I feel like I should at least check if she's serious. "You think we should actually set a date for this?"

"Only if you know you won't be needed for missions for a few weeks," she replies, still smiling. That's a yes, then…

"Whoa, Mel, simmer," I chuckle. "What're you gonna do to me?"

"If you're that curious, let's just set a time and place." Oh, now it's a formal challenge, huh? If I say no, she's going to mock me about it for weeks. If I say yes and lose, that's the kind of thing that could haunt me for a whole lifetime. But if I say yes and win…fuck, that's tempting. And I've improved significantly since arriving on Omega. Gotta risk it all to win big…

"We sort out the bombs, then we do it," I decide, before I can change my mind. "God knows I could do with something to look forward to."

"Sounds good to me," Melanis says confidently. I roll my eyes, getting up for the door before I pause and look around.

"So, are you gonna be wearing tips for your talons? Or are we doing this hardcore?" I ask, the thought suddenly occurring to me.

"It's your first time. I'll go easy."

I whistle lowly, smiling. "You sure about that? People underestimating me is one of the main reasons I'm still around today."

"If you'd prefer a few scratches, far be it from me to deny you," the turian shrugs.

"Well, I'd hate to feel like I was starting from any advantage."

"Just remember," she says, baring her teeth in a threatening grin. "It was your decision."

"Will do," I say, turning back to the door and trying not to shiver from the chills that gave me. "See you later, Mel."

"See you around, Ian," she says, with a definite satisfaction to her voice as the door slides shut behind me. Well…that helped. It's not made me any happier about handing over the bombs, but at least I'm aware now it's the only solution open to us. Plus having Mel helping out this time makes a nice change, rather than me skirting around her or turning down offers to help. Even if we don't have the most professional of relationships, we do make a damn good team.

Speaking of unprofessional, I'm gonna have to make sure I get in some CQC practice before the sparring match so I don't get my ass kicked too bad. Especially now I told Melanis not to wear tips on her claws, which for some reason seemed like a good idea at the time. I guess some refresher lessons with Garrus wouldn't go amiss…

The squad are still all together when I walk back into the living room, but are all gathered around the big screen we have in there, watching an Omega news channel reporting on what happened in Afterlife. _"Aria T'Loak in failed assassination attempt"_, the tagline reads, as footage of the crowds outside Afterlife along with security cams showing me exchanging bullets with Aria's guards. "What're they saying, then?" I ask, hopping down on the sofa next to Butler and Weaver.

"No casualties," Weaver replies, beady eyes never leaving the screen. "Plenty of minor injuries from the melee outside, though. And one turian taken to a med clinic after a large fall." Which would have been Sensat kicking him over the railing…poor Grizz. Still, the fact no-one died is a small relief.

"They're calling it a terrorist attack," Sidonis says disdainfully. "Last time I checked, the only terrorists on Omega are those fucking merc groups."

"Hey, at least they're not blaming us," I say. "So we can just be grateful our public image hasn't been ruined."

"The news reports don't know the whole truth anyway," a flanging voice from the top of the stairs announces, and we all turn to see Garrus walking down, as Melanis joins Monteague in his seat. Well, presumably this is the next mission briefing starting. "I guess you all want to know what happened?"

"Yeah," Grundan grunts. "Let's hear how the human almost got our pilot killed."

"We think Sensat was triggered by someone in Afterlife to kill Aria," Garrus explains, tactfully ignoring the batarian as he looks around the group. "We all know we didn't find her in the most normal of circumstances, and Ian saw a krogan acting strange around her just before she tried to kill Aria. When she did, they started shooting back, and…" He chuckles, mostly to himself. "Well, here we are."

"If he wants to blame a krogan, whatever," Grundan says, glaring at me. "What if Sensat just snapped? You said it, we didn't find her in normal circumstances."

"That doesn't fit her psychology," Laet replies immediately, causing everyone to stare at him in surprise. "What? I spend a lot of time around Monteague, you pick these things up. There are certain personality traits that stand out, and Sensat isn't an aggressive person. She wouldn't have reacted in that way unless Aria posed some perceived, unignorable threat to her or people she knows. Which I'm assuming she didn't?" the turian asks, looking at me.

"No," I say. "Aria was just sat up in her booth after I was done talking to her. Senast just walked up by herself." Laet nods, looking quite pleased with himself for contributing to the conversation, before Garrus clears his throat.

"Sensat isn't anywhere close to being as unstable as she was when we first brought her here," Garrus adds. "The krogan theory adds up best."

"Except we found Sensat in an Eclipse base," Melanis says thoughtfully. "Since when did Eclipse hire krogan?" Fuck…that's actually a damn good question.

"Well, we did find Umbra emails where we found Sensat," I say. "Would anyone be that surprised if they were involved somehow?" There's a chorus of 'no' and people shaking their heads around the room.

"Look," Garrus interjects. "We can try and find out what happened with Sensat later. I just wanted to make sure you all understood what happened before I tell you about the next mission."

"So Aria gave you a location?" Butler asks me. "I was just joking about the silver tongue, Shaw, but I shouldnae have doubted you."

I try and give a chuckle, despite how uncomfortable this is now. As soon as we get over how I got this information, the better. "Well, I have my talents. But she's given us a big weapon shipment in a private spaceport near the Talon district. Probably weren't expecting us to check around near the Talons for them."

"The 'big shipment' is supposed to contain four Maelstrom bombs," Garrus adds, making the squad all give him looks of shock. Even I join in, just because I wasn't expecting him to give the game away this quick. "So we need to secure the cargo rather than destroy it. Too much risk for collateral damage." Ah, okay…that's a good justification. At least for now. Giftwrapping them and posting them to Aria is going to raise a few questions, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. "We're splitting into two strike forces. Sidonis, you're in charge of Weaver and Melanis. I'll take Ian and Grundan."

I barely stifle a groan at that. Despite Grundan being indispensable on most missions in case we need hacking assistance, working with him isn't great. Unless this is Garrus trying to make us kiss and make up, but I don't think either of those things are gonna happen any time soon. Or ever. "Sounds good," Sidonis says, sounding confident about his role. He did serve as an officer in the turian military, so he's pretty well qualified for this. "Who's going to drive us in with Vortash in the med bay?"

"I'll drive," Garrus says.

"I'll bring the sick bags, then," I mutter.

"The shipment's coming in tonight, so get your things together and then get ready to ship out," Garrus says, standing up as the rest of us follow his lead. "Dismissed." The five of us heading on the mission walk off towards the lockers while the others take up their places around the big screen again, obviously watching for more news on the whole Afterlife affair. Here's hoping Aria doesn't jump the gun and make our identities flash up on there.

Well, here we go. Time to go and secure a known criminal mastermind four of the most destructive weapons known to galactic civilisation. I pull my sniper rifle out of the locker, shaking my head as I extend it and check everything's in place. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

At least things can't be more fucked up than they already are.

**A/N: I'm baaaack! In a slightly limited capacity, since I still have exams, but the story is no longer on hold! (group cheer)**

**So, next chapter, Ian and co. will grab the Maelstrom bombs, deliver them to Aria, and their identities will be safe forever. And there'll be cake and bunnies and double rainbows, and nothing will go wrong at all. Promise.**

**Anyways, I hope you all missed me, cos I know I missed you and this story. For my fellow students who had GCSEs, A-levels or any kind of exam, really, I hope you've had/are having every success with them. Cos I'm sure as hell hoping I have.**

**I'll see you next chapter, then, whenever that may be! Shouldn't be more than a week or so. Again, sorry about the wait.**


	47. Ian vs The Batarians

Chapter 47

Blue Stahli: Doubt

"You know," I call over the roar of the shuttle's engines, as Garrus tries to overtake a cruiser on the inside and has to virtually stop us in mid-air so we don't get smashed by incoming traffic, "it's taken you driving to make me realise how great Vortash is."

"I haven't crashed," the turian replies, not looking around at the chuckles rolling around the passenger area as I grin at him. I still like looking out over Omega as we fly through, how everything has that familiar red tinge to it from the station lights, the haphazard, inconsistent architecture, flashes of gunfire and violence erupting from the various districts, Afterlife lighting up like a beacon in the centre of it all. The fact I've seen it all at least a hundred times now, though, means the most spectacular thing about this trip is Garrus driving. Admittedly, he's better than me, but I literally can't drive, so that's not much of a consolation for him. I'm not sure whether this is confirming Vortash's talents, or just reaffirming Garrus' lack of talent.

"Garrus, there's got to be at least a thousand people in this junction of traffic," I say. "None of them have crashed either. It's not the most spectacular accomplishment."

That does get him to turn his head, blue visor facing me as a mandible creeps open in a smirk. "I can always drive into a wall and leave you in some flaming wreckage if you'd like to experience the alternative."

"You know, I think I'll pass."

"Then stop complaining," he says, grinning as he turns back and guns the engine as the traffic starts moving again. "It's not like you're not used to this from C-Sec."

"Well, yeah," I nod. "That's flawed logic, though. I'm used to being shot, and that doesn't make it any more bearable."

"We are _not _having a debate about this," he replies, giving an exaggerated growl. "Sit down, shut up, and let me get us to those co-ordinates in one piece."

"That's another benefit of Vortash," I say, turning to the others and taking my seat with a mock-sigh. "He didn't talk enough to have a go at me." I get another smirk out of everyone for that. Except Grundan, of course, but that's pretty much a non-event.

"I just hope we don't have to make a quick getaway," Sidonis adds, looking over my shoulder at Garrus, whose talons are getting noticeably tighter on the steering wheel. "We're not going to avoid any gunfire if we keep getting stuck in fucking traffic every ten seconds. Especially since there's no guns on these things."

"Hey, speed we're moving, I could lean out and snipe without too much bother," I say.

"Weaver could probably throw explosive charges at them as they fly past," Melanis suggests, getting a full group laugh at that.

"I think people climbing on board while we're static is more of a concern," the salarian says.

That gets a genuine growl out of Garrus, his mandibles flaring in the turian gesture of annoyance as I turn to look at the turian. "Guys, I think he can hear all those horrible things we're saying about him." The growl gets even louder. "Sorry, Garrus. I tried telling them you can't drive anything bigger than a cruiser, but they just kept going with -"

With a sudden lurch, the cruiser just drops straight down, the jolt making me stagger and cling onto a chair for support until Garrus corrects the drop a few seconds later, the sudden stop from that sending me sprawling forward so my head's lying at his feet as he calmly pulls away again. "Oh, sorry, Ian," he says with mock surprise, not even looking down. "I thought you were strapped into your seat. Where you're supposed to be."

The four other squadmembers, including Grundan this time, are all snickering as I sit back down, with nothing injured except for my pride. And of course Grundan would laugh now the joke's on me, the twat. "Are you done mocking your superior officer?" Garrus shouts back at us all. "We'll be at the spaceport in a couple of minutes, so Sidonis, tell me what your team's doing?"

"You're dropping us at the back of the spaceport," Sidonis replies immediately, obviously knowing his plan off by heart. Good man. "We'll scale the wall, then -"

"Wait, wait, wait," I say, holding up a hand. My tactical knowledge may not be the greatest, but even I'm seeing an obvious flaw there. "What if the wall's electrified? Would you prefer yourself crispy, or well done?"

"It's a Talon spaceport, in the depths of their territory. They'll think it's a safezone," Sidonis says, looking at me like I'm stupid. "And the Talons can't afford anything like a fucking electrified perimeter. They're too busy buying booze, bad weapons and women." He does have, it's fair to say, a point. The Talons have a bit of a reputation as one of the more relaxed gangs. Less about the mercenary work itself, more about what they can buy with the money from it. The Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack run like a business, behind the scenes. The Talons use mercenary work as a means to an end; drugs, sex and rock and roll. Though since we don't have rock and roll, they replace it with copious amounts of the other two.

"Alright," I shrug. "Carry on."

"Thanks," Sidonis says sarcastically, giving me a glare. "Once we get in, we sneak around and check through containers methodically to see if we can find the Maelstrom bombs. If the container doesn't have them in, we set a proximity explosive as a little surprise for when Whiteguard come to check on their shipment. If we find the bombs, we call it in, you go back and bring the shuttle around, we load them up and then get the fuck out."

"What he said," Melanis nods.

"Glad to see someone was paying attention," Garrus says, as the shuttle swoops around and I see the spaceport looming up out of the windscreen. Small affair, square block of not more than two hundred metres each side, with what's presumably a security station; a raised up box in the centre of the complex, overlooking the whole thing. They obviously don't get much traffic through here at once. It makes the search a lot easier, so I'm certainly not going to complain about that. Only issue with that, of course, is that security is going to be spread less thin. Still, with Melanis on Sidonis' team, stealth shouldn't be a problem. "I'm not going to stop long, so get out and onto the ground before the mercs see you. Ten seconds until landing."

With five seconds to go, Garrus opens the shuttle doors and lowers us down so we're just hovering off the ground. Sidonis, Melanis and Weaver jump out in seconds, and I see their weapons being raised as they move towards the wall. Sidonis…it's been almost two years since Shepard died. He ought to make his move soon. But I just can't see it. He's got no reason to betray us. He's been nothing but loyal to Garrus and the rest of us, he's saved my life on more than one occasion, and he's a genuinely nice guy to be around. The 'saving my life' thing is a particular sticking point. If I'd ratted him out to Garrus earlier, I'd probably be dead. And even if I _do _tell Garrus about him early, getting rid of Sidonis for reasons we can't tell the others is going to raise a few eyebrows, to say the least.

Not that I don't have a plan. After all, Sidonis calls Garrus to meet him alone, and Garrus wouldn't leave the base without telling us. So when he gets that call, I'll just tell him not to go. For once, it's really that simple. Sidonis will be long gone, but we'll all be at base and ready for the merc onslaught and Shepard's arrival. Simples.

Garrus takes off again, bringing us around to park outside the front of the spaceport. I slide the helmet on my armour up, turning my head to look at Grundan as he slides his shotgun behind his back. "Remember, mate; friendly fire's bad, yeah?" I say teasingly. The batarian, unsurprisingly, just grunts back, fixing on his helmet and hopping out without even a backwards glance as we touch down. There's a good fifty metres between us and the front entrance, and we've landed in a shadowy area, meaning the guards probably saw us touch down but don't know who got out the shuttle. That works for me. They'll see vehicles touching down all the time.

"So how're we getting in there?" I ask Garrus, as he steps out the shuttle and stands next to Grundan and I and I lift up my sniper rifle, scoping out the front gate. Two human males, lightly armoured without helmets, but the armour they do have is white with a shield emblem on. "There's two Whiteguard guys on the gate. We walk up to them, they're gonna open fire as soon as they see our armour and then we're fucked," I say, looking at Garrus.

"Problems of being famous," he replies. "I already had an idea, though. Ian, turn around. Grundan, put your shotgun up against his back."

"What?" Grundan and I both ask at the same time, for once agreeing on something as we stare at Garrus.

"Grundan can go up there with you and say that he's captured Deadpool," Garrus explains. "Then when they're about to call it in, you take them down silently."

"Any plan that involves him pointing a gun at me," I say, pointing at Grundan for emphasis, "really isn't filling me with confidence."

"I don't have a problem with it," the batarian says, and I'm pretty sure he's grinning very, _very _wide under that helmet.

"Two against one," Garrus shrugs, looking at me. Goddamn it…I don't have any better ideas, to be fair, but I don't trust Grundan anywhere near enough for this. Not that I really have a choice.

"Well, at least I'm going into captivity democratically," I mutter, reluctantly sliding my sniper rifle over my back and putting my wrists together behind my back like they've been bound, while Grundan slides his shotgun out and presses it against my back in an unnecessarily rough way. "Let's get this over with."

"I'll wait here until it's clear," Garrus says, and is that…laughter in his voice?

"You'd better not be laughing right now," I say.

Grundan quickly shoves me in the back with the shotgun, pushing me forward and out into the open. "You're not in any position to make demands," he growls, as we slowly begin to close the fifty metres towards the base. The two guards have stood up from their slouched position, looking understandably curious at Deadpool walking towards them with a batarian holding a shotgun to his back.

"Do you really need to get into this much character?" I ask under my breath.

"It helps me decide whether or not to just let them take you," Grundan mutters. "I could just tell Garrus we were outmatched."

"Even you're not that much of a bastard," I say.

"Aren't I?"

Grundan leaves that hanging in the air as we reach the two guards, shotgun still digging into my back as Grundan clears his throat. "Found him wandering around the spaceport," he says, then cocks the shotgun, making my blood run cold with the sound. Of all the people doing this, why does it have to be him… "I heard there's a good reward for this sack of shit."

I can practically see the dollar signs in the guards' eyes as they look at me, then at Grundan, obviously deciding he doesn't know what I'm really worth. "Uh…yeah, yeah, sure," one says quickly. "Thousand credit bounty is yours."

"Let me see the money first," Grundan says. Erm…isn't this a good time to attack? He keeps the primed gun aimed at me, though, as the guard digs around and pulls out a credit chit, holding it out to Grundan who snatches it with one hand. He stares at it for a few seconds…then nods, knocking me forward with the shotgun butt. What? Oh, you son of a bitch! "Seems good to me," the batarian nods.

"Are you fucking kidding?" I say, making both of the human guards look at me in surprise. Which is when Grundan actually strikes, darting forward with surprising speed and smashing their heads together. The two guys just crumple, letting Grundan put his shotgun away and pocket the credit chit as Garrus comes running over.

"Don't be so jumpy, human," he says, turning to look at the turian pulling level with us. "If I sell you to the mercs, it won't be for a thousand credits."

"Wow, Grundan, that's really nice of you to say," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Make yourself useful and hack the front gate, alright?"

The batarian mutters something under his breath which I don't catch, for better or worse, and walks off while Garrus sidles next to me. "Nice to see you two working together."

"Oh yeah," I nod. "The mercs were only offering a thousand credits to him, so he didn't sell me."

"Well, lucky you," Garrus says, before he's interrupted by the comm. unit bleeping.

"_So…we've ran into a problem," _Sidonis says, sounding pretty reluctant to be talking. _"We've looked for another entrance, but…"_

"The wall's electrified," I finish for him.

"_The wall's electrified, yeah."_

"Well, there's got to be a power breaker in there somewhere," I say, sighing and looking at Garrus, then at the raised office thing looking over the whole spaceport. "I'm guessing that very obvious security room might be holding it." The gate slides open, Grundan's hack finished as he turns back to us. "You two start looking for the bombs. I'm gonna head up there and deactivate the electricity."

"Are you sure?" Garrus asks. "We can give you back up if you want."

I shake my head. "One person's quieter than three. Besides, the less time we spend in Talon territory, the better. No point having them _and _Whiteguard on us. So you making a start works best."

"See you when you're done then," Garrus says. "Good luck."

"No good luck from you, Grundan?" I ask, as the batarian stays silent.

"Don't die when I'm not around to enjoy it," he shoots back. Well…it'll have to do. The two of them head off to the left, disappearing around a shipping container as I look up at the guard tower. There's only one set of stairs in, and while I don't see any guards looking through the windows, undoubtedly they'll notice me coming up that way. So I need an alternative.

They stack the shipping containers high, meaning that I should be able to clamber up…which gives me a vantage to jump and climb onto the pod's roof. It only takes a few seconds to stick the grav clips on the shipping container directly in front of me, before I'm carefully climbing up, looking anywhere but down until I reach the lip of the top container, about ten or fifteen metres high, and peer my head over it to look into the security station.

Alright. One Whiteguard batarian in there, looking over a terminal, presumably showing security camera footage. Good thing I didn't take the stairs, then. Apparently the budget went into the electrified wall, though, because this thing looks rickety as all hell. Cheap roof made out of some thin, black material, walls streaked with rust. I shimmy around my crate so I'm out of sight of the guard, then climb up, taking two quick steps and jumping to stick my hands on the side of the security station. From there, it's a few seconds agonising climb using only my upper body, but I clamber onto the roof with relative ease, the surface flexing under my feet.

Now…there's a guard underneath me somewhere. And a fragile roof that I could drop through. I have always wanted to smash through a ceiling and flatten someone, and it's the only real way I have of getting in there, so I may as well kill two birds with one stone. The console was on the right wall of the pod…so I walk over there, testing my feet on the surface. Still fragile. Alright, here we go.

I jump up, then bring my feet down hard on the roof's surface, carrying me straight through as it tears open and down on top of the batarian's head, both feet hitting him and smashing him into the ground as I land on top of him with my knees bent to soften the landing. With all the background noise of Omega, engines, gunshots, etc, no-one will have heard a thing. And that poor batarian won't know what hit him. Perfect.

"Garrus, I'm in," I say, sitting down at the computer terminal and typing in some quick commands to deactivate all the cameras, the feeds blacking out on the screen. Now to find the wall control…marked handily on the terminal's desktop. Click on that, deactivate it, and we're golden. "And Sidonis, the electricity is down. And as an added bonus, I've deactivated all the cameras in here. Don't say I don't spoil you."

"_I don't know what we'd do without you, Ian," _Melanis says sarcastically, as I look out of the windows of the security room to see Sidonis climbing over first. I turn back into the room, checking the terminal for the security roster…and see an eight man Whiteguard team posted up. The specific members change, but the numbers on duty at any time don't. Three down, five to go. May as well check the email while I'm on here…

"_Probably have some professionalism on missions," _Weaver mutters, as I see him and the female turian drop down from the wall and stalk forward, their pistols raised.

"Funny," I say, smiling to myself. Ah, here's email! Junk, junk, junk…'removal orders'. I click on that, then quickly scroll through the text.

_Philip_

_The labour and their handlers will meet you at the designated time to retrieve priority packages. _

_Harga supplied them, so they may see this as an opportunity to stage some kind of attempt escape. He assures us they respond well to corporal punishment, so don't hesitate to apply it if you need to. Just get the scum to load everything up. _

_Oh, and expect a little something extra in your pay this month if you handle this well._

_Shirion and Shurta _

Beneath the email, whoever 'Philip' is has written himself a note. '_Priority: Container 626". _"Garrus, I'm coming back down to you," I say, making a mental note of the three names in the email. Harga, Shirion and Shurta. Interesting. "Got a couple of things. There's five guards still in play, so keep your eyes peeled, and I've found a note saying the 'priority packages' ought to be in container six-two-six. Probably the Maelstroms." There's acknowledgement from the squad members before the comm. unit goes quiet, and I step out the security room, this time through the actual door.

Before I descend, though, I steal a quick glance over at Melanis and her team, pulling opening container doors and looking inside, before moving on to the next one. Melanis exchanges some quick words with Sidonis, before branching off by herself, checking down one secluded corridor of the crates. Four Maelstrom bombs in here to find…and one awkward explanation when we do.

I'm about to leave, when something catches my eye as I turn away from Melanis. Something in white armour, stalking slowly towards her as her back is turned looking inside a container. I pull the sniper rifle off my back in seconds, scoping in on the target in a second after that. Batarian, light armour, knife in hand for a kill that ignores shields. Easy headshot for me. But I don't have a silencer on it.

Melanis seems to fiddle around with something on her torso before looking back in the container, and the batarian is literally five meters away. Oh, _fuck, _she hasn't seen him. And he's gonna kill her unless I do something. I scope back in, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I realise I'm the only thing standing between Melanis and death. Not happening on my watch.

One metre now…and I can't wait any longer. I pull the trigger, wincing as the loud crack carries around the spaceport, but the batarian's head explodes. Just as Melanis turns with her mandibles flared in a fearsome snarl, swinging her knife at the neck area of the now decapitated body.

She knew he was there.

Then she looks up at where the noise came from, the line of vision from her helmet locking with mine. She's seen me. Shit.

I try giving her a cheery little wave as alarms begin to sound up around us.

It doesn't really work.

"_Damn it, who the hell was that?" _Garrus yells, and I see Sidonis, Melanis and Weaver begin to run from crate to crate as lights start flicking on from the buildings neighbouring the spaceport.

"_Why don't you ask Ian?" _Melanis says, venom in her voice obvious. She's genuinely pissed. Not the joke angry we've been doing the past few months, I mean legitimately furious. That's not good.

"Yeah, alright, that was me," I say, running down the stairs from the security room, then ducking and doubling the pace as gunfire lights them up, and I see a female human guard unloading her assault rifle at me from a corridor of containers below, occasional stray bullet getting through the gaps in the stairs. I pull out my pistol as I reach the bottom of the stairs, sprinting forward ten metres and diving behind a shipping container as she gets a good burst of rounds into my back. Fortunately, my shields _just _hold, my breath rattling around the helmet as I try to talk again. "There was a batarian sneaking up on Melanis, and I shot him to save her."

"_You didn't save me!" _she hisses. _"Do you really think I'm stupid enough not to notice a batarian walking up behind me with a knife? Didn't you see me reach for mine?" _That will have been her fiddling around with her torso…fuck, I really should have picked up on that. I stick my head out to see where the guard's gone, then pull it back in, raising my hands instinctively as a flurry of rounds fly past. She's gonna have to reload soon, so I just need to keep goading her…

"I saw you in danger, so I took the shot!" I shoot back, getting ready to peer around the corner again. "What was I supposed to do? Wait and see you get filleted?" I look around, and this time, no rounds my way. She must be reloading, which gives me the window of opportunity I need. Perfect!

"_No, you were supposed to think about how this is a __**stealth **__operation, and have some bloody faith in me!" _Melanis replies, Australian twang more obvious with the 'bloody'. I pull up my pistol, running forward and looking behind every piece of cover, until I come face to face with the woman who's just finished her reload. She tries a swing with her rifle, but it's easy enough to duck under the butt, grab it out of her hands when she's off balance, then do the exact same move back to her, knocking her out cold as I drop the assault rifle and move on.

"Well shit, I'm sorry for giving a damn, Melanis!" I shout, probably stretching the soundproofing of my helmet to the limit as I start counting off the numbers on the containers I'm running past. I've just reached six hundred, meaning the Malestroms shouldn't be far away…

"_We're going to have the Talons on us in five minutes, at best," _Garrus says, cutting into the conversation. _"If you two want to fight, you can do it back at the base, but right now we need to find those bombs. Get to container six-two-six and leave the other ones, now!" _

"_This isn't over, Ian," _Melanis growls, her line going dead.

"Of course it isn't," I mutter to myself, taking a sharp left into another row of containers. This is 615, 16, 17, 18…looks like 626 is going to be around the next corner. I barrel around that, almost plowing straight into Garrus and Grundan he's hacking the container door. Huh. "Sorry I'm late," I say, to a small growl from Garrus and disapproving shake of the head from Grundan as he stays focused on the hack. The hacking bodes well, though, since I've not seen any sophisticated lock on any of the containers so far except this one. Combined with the note I saw, and it looks like we're good.

"Not going to be fun carrying these bombs out of here," I say, remembering the size of Maelstroms. One person can carry one, but it'll need both hands and probably a lot of grunting. "Especially seeing as this place is going to be crawling with turians any minute now."

"And whose fault is that?" Grundan asks. "I should have just sold you to Whiteguard when I had the chance. Would have saved us all this."

"I was trying to help Melanis!" I protest, but it falls upon deaf ears as Grundan steps back from the doors, hack obviously complete, and slowly pulls open the heavy doors. Alright, time to move…

Absolutely nothing.

There's silence for a few seconds, broken by the sound of pounding footsteps as Sidonis, Weaver and Melanis all come around the corner, panting as they stare into the empty container too. "Please tell me Maelstrom bombs are invisible," Sidonis finally gasps.

"They must have already moved them somewhere more secure," Garrus says, mandibles and teeth bared in fury.

"It makes sense," I point out. "I mean, everyone knows we hit random spaceports. They'd have wanted to get them somewhere safe as soon as they could."

"Nice job mentioning that bright idea before the mission started," Melanis snarls.

Well, looks like she's reverted back to her old, bitchy self. Just to make an already shit situation even more perfect. "So what, we shouldn't have checked at all?" I ask rhetorically. "Use your brain before you insult people, Melanis, it's there for a reason."

"What did you just say -"

"You two, I told you to save it!" Garrus snaps. "We need to get out of here before the Talons show up!" He slams the container doors shut, anger fuelling his strength considering how heavy those things look. "We'll get back to the shuttle the way we came in. Get moving!"

We all set off in a full sprint back through the maze of containers, alarms still wailing away as engine noises begin to converge on the spaceport. At full pace, though, it only takes a minute to get out of the front gate of the spaceport, and half of that to get from there back into the shuttle, but I can feel Melanis' eyes burning into the back of my head the whole way up until we dive into the shuttle, the doors barely even closed before Garrus has pulled us up into the air at remarkable speed.

We're clear of the immediate area just as the first Talon ships swoop in, but thankfully too preoccupied with getting to the spaceport then checking any passing vehicles as we become anonymous by slipping into an official traffic lane. No big explosions as we leave like usual, no weapons destroyed, no nothing. We literally accomplished fuck all.

As our helmets come off and slide down, the look I'm getting from Melanis implies she knows exactly who's to blame for that. The apologetic smile I give her just results in her mandibles shaking from the intensity of the growl she emits.

And unless we find those bombs in the next two and a half days, my name's gonna be on the lips over every single person on Omega. So even if Melanis doesn't kill me, the repercussions of that probably will.

I am so, so screwed.

**A/N: Yeah, I lied about the sunshine and bunnies and rainbows. **

**So, now Melanis is pissed at our intrepid hero, and the team has literally nothing to go off except for the three names Ian picked up from that email. With only two days left to get those bombs. Things are going to start getting very interesting, very quickly.**

**Oh, and before I forget! Blood-Hawk-531 found an amazing female turian pic, would should help y'all imagine what Melanis looks like (just add full face orange clan paint). Here it is: TWULF . deviantart . com / art / Female-Turian-Paint-doodle-287527937**

**And with that, once again, thanks for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you next chapter! **


	48. Ian vs The Bite

Chapter 48

Muse: Undisclosed Desires

The ride home is somewhat frosty, but at least bearable. Aside from Melanis and Grundan staring at me like I'm a devil incarnate, Sidonis, Weaver and Garrus did eventually concede on the way back that they understand why I took the shot, which makes me feel a little better about myself. I've had no such luck with Melanis, though. She stormed off as soon as we touched down, leaving me to go grab a shower, change into my regular clothes, and mull over how best to approach the situation with her.

She'd obviously gone to her room to deal with her rage by herself, but as I thought it over in the shower, for once, I don't think she deserves that. She can blame me all she wants, but I'm not just going to roll over for her when I know I'm in the right, on one rare occasion.

As soon as I'm changed, I walk down the corridor towards her room, running a hand through my hair and taking a deep breath before I touch the door panel. I don't even bother knocking, my frustration eclipsing even a firmly ingrained sense of manners, as the female turian whirls around to my face me, orange paint on her mandibles stretched back in a threatening smirk. "I don't remember inviting you into my room," she says, voice dangerous and low, the 'fuck off' subtext almost painfully obvious.

"Yeah, probably because you didn't," I shrug, stepping in anyway and facing her down. "But I think you and I've got a few things to talk about, don't you?"

"What's there to talk about?" she asks. "You fucked up. Simple as that."

"Fucked up trying to save your life, sure," I reply, straining to keep my voice calm in the face of how stubborn she is. "What the hell was I supposed to think, exactly? I see a batarian coming up behind you with a knife, and you expect me to just detach myself and let you take care of it?"

"Yes!" Melanis snaps. "I've been at this a lot longer than you, Ian. I'm not so oblivious as to let a batarian come up behind me without noticing."

I just stare at her for a few seconds after she says that, her logic as alien as her species. "How was I supposed to know that?" I finally say, throwing my arms out to emphasise my confusion. "Fair enough, you've been doing this longer than me, but that doesn't make you invincible, Mel."

"I know I'm not invincible. That's why I would never be stupid enough to be caught unawares like that!" Both of us have given up on trying to keep our voices calm now, dangerous mutterings threatening to turn into full on screaming .

Still, I'm not going to get anywhere with this argument, since she's taking it like some kind of personal insult. "Alright, alright, fine, you're too good for that, I get that now," I concede, if only for a brief respite in the yelling as I force eye contact with her. She seems to be looking me up and down as we talk, and I'm not quite sure why. Maybe she's judging whether or not to hit me? "But I was trying to save you, and you bite my fucking head off! Can you not see how it looked to me?"

"I don't care how it looked to you, Ian!" she shouts back. "This was your mission, and you still managed to fuck it up!"

"The bombs weren't even there in the first place, in case you've forgotten!" I point out. I mean, I did blow our cover, fair play, but it didn't even make a difference in the long run! "How is that _my _fault?"

"Did you bother to actually check the info Aria gave to you?" the turian asks, her tone turning snippy, almost haughty. "Never take anything she gives at face value. You should know that."

"Why would she lie, huh?" I say, jumping on the flaw in her logic. "She wants those bombs off us, how does it help her to give us false information? And if you're so smart to think of that, why is it only coming up now?"

"I thought you would have known better!"

I give a sarcastic laugh at that. "You assuming I knew better? Fuck, that's a new one."

"And now I have no reason to ever do it again," she snaps.

"Fair enough," I say, shrugging. "Next time I see you in trouble, I've got no reason to help you out. If I see three krogan bearing down on you, I'll leave it, cos you've obviously got it under _fucking _control!"

"Unlike _some_ people in this room, I would never be stupid enough to get cornered by three krogan!"

"Always with the stupidity, isn't it?" I say, folding my arms. I'll admit, I make some mistakes, but the constant implication that it's down to stupidity is getting tiresome, to be honest. "What makes you so smart, Mel?"

"Do you see me making half of the amateurish mistakes you usually do?"

"No, you're usually preoccupied shouting at me to actually do anything."

"Exactly my point. I don't know if it's stupidity, whatever, but it's annoying, Ian. Just one of many annoying things."

"You know what annoys me?" I reply. "You being my friend for these past few months, then just reverting to being a bitch at the drop of a hat like this." I shake my head as she doesn't reply, realising I've screwed myself over with that line of defence. Even if she overplays me doing things wrong, the fact is her record is considerably better than mine. I'm still going to get her to concede she's in the wrong, though, even if it kills me. Hell, the way we're going, it probably will. "You know, putting that to one side," I say, changing tack, "the fact you immediately bring up my mistakes and blame me for this is making me think. You've got no faith in me at all, do you?"

Melanis smirks, stepping back and flexing her mandibles. "You want the brutal truth, Ian? You haven't given me a whole lot of reasons to put faith in you. And whenever you seem to make progress in that respect, you do something like this."

It's another moment where all I can do it stare at her, forcing out a fake laugh in disbelief as I try to process that. "Are you fucking serious? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I've come from strength to strength since I joined this squad, you even told me that yourself a month ago!"

"Increasing skills isn't enough to build faith -"

"Oh yeah?" I interrupt. "Then what is, Melanis? Cos believe me, I'm dying to know here."

"Skills are nothing without the judgement on when to use them," she explains, her voice mocking in how patronising it is. "You misjudged at the spaceport, and do I even need to remind you about Evan?"

"Don't you dare bring him into this," I hiss, bristling at the mention of Evan. She's given me plenty of lectures about him since she found out about us anyway, but it still feels like a kick in the teeth every time he's brought up. Especially since I still haven't been able to blame Evan for turning on me.

"And why shouldn't I bring him into this?" Mel asks, her grin showing she knows she's played her trump card. "You wanted to know. Well there's your answer."

"Evan helped me on that case, he's one of the main reasons we caught that killer, and he was _not _a bad person!" I snap. "We talked about this, I thought it was water under the bridge!"

"Just because we talked about it doesn't mean it was a good decision," she counters.

"And it doesn't mean you can bring it up whenever you want to berate me!" I shout. She is unbelievable sometimes... "I told you about the Maelstroms, didn't I? I've learned my lesson from it."

"And how do I know that you didn't tell me about them to try to make up for Evan?"

I gawp at her, shaking my head. Seriously? "Melanis, even for you, that's fucking ridiculous. And you're just giving me circular reasoning now. If that was really what was pissing you off, you wouldn't have been my friend for these past few months, so why don't you cut the crap and tell me what's really going on?"

Melanis is just glaring at me now, growling lowly as her eyes still rove me up and down, but I ignore it, unable to stop myself. "I mean, maybe you are just legitimately angry at me blowing our cover, but even you aren't stubborn enough not to understand where I'm coming from, you're too smart for that. So are you just having a bad few days? Angry at the implication that I thought you needed help?" Her growls grow even louder as I continue talking for her, as she draws ever so closer, mandibles flexing in a way I've always found fascinating. "Angry because the bombs weren't there and you just need an easy target to take it out on?" I can almost feel the rumble emitting from her throat now, sharp turian teeth being exposed more and more.

"Or is it because I actually cared enough to be worried about you?" I finally ask. And that's what makes her snap. She's grabbed me by the collar before I can really react, pressing her face up to mine in an obvious intimidation attempt, but her grip isn't as painful as I expected it to be. Almost like she's pulling me closer just for the sake of having me here.

"Who do you think you are, pretending to understand me?" The question is supposed to come out as aggressive, but her tone of voice suggests genuine curiosity as she stares into my eyes, and I stare right back.

"The only person you've let close enough to try," I reply, glaring into her dark, deep predatory eyes, smelling the metallic tinge of her warm breath on my face, feeling the heat radiating off her body as we stare at each other, muscles tensed, breathing heavily, and standing the closest we've ever been to each other. And, somehow...it feels right.

Melanis suddenly lets out a snarl, lowering her head to the side of my neck before I can do anything, not that I really want to anymore. Sharp teeth scrape across my skin, then suddenly bite down hard, making me grunt with the sharp pain as I feel them pierce through. The pain subsides almost straight away, though, and she starts nipping around the bite mark, still growling as she leaves marks across my skin. Part of me can't believe this is happening, can't decide whether this is her releasing anger or pent up emotions, but the part in charge isn't really giving a damn at this point, more than happy to, for once, just go with it.

She suddenly pulls back, teeth withdrawing as she appraises me. Her previously angry eyes have a new depth to them, something...primal seems the only appropriate word. I've seen Melanis in all kinds of moods over this past year and a bit, but nothing I know comes close to this. This is seriously animalistic. Piercing straight into me, angry, frustrated, but conflicted, like she's suffering the same internal turmoil I am. Turians are supposed to have a much more raw side to them in times of extreme emotions...and I think I'm seeing it. The human side of her has almost totally vanished, her ragged breath further evidence of that, coupled with the sheer heat rolling off her body that I never realised before.

I know she's going to bite again, so I act before she can, moving my head forward and meeting her mouth plates with my lips, just doing what feels natural. The realisation I've got no idea what I should be doing is quickly dulled as her teeth meet my lower lip and start nibbling on it, mandibles brushing against my cheeks as they quiver, deep rumble of her growl passing through my body from the contact as I adjust to the rough texture of her plates, tasting the same metallic tinge as I smelt on her breath before...

Then taloned hands are shoving me away firmly, and Melanis is shaking her head, glaring at me dangerously, the previous look of need replaced with pure anger and frustration now. "Get out," she says, her voice dangerously quiet. Oh God, I cocked this up. I cocked this up really, really bad. She was in an extreme emotional state, so was I, I didn't bloody think, and now...well, fuck.

"Mel, I'm sorry," I say, raising my hands apologetically. "Look, I totally misjudged that-"

"I said _get out!_" she yells, stepping forward and baring her teeth fully in a snarl, talons outstretched. This isn't Melanis being slightly pissy. If I stay here any longer, I genuinely think she might kill me. So with that, I turn and practically run to the door, stepping out into the corridor and breathing a sigh of relief as it closes behind me.

Slowly, the adrenaline and emotional high starts to wash off, as I realise that the spot where I got bitten is beginning to ache a little. I lift my hand up to it, small drops of blood appearing on it when I pull it away. Which just further compounds the full implications of what really happened in there. She bit me. I kissed her. It didn't feel wrong. Exactly the opposite.

But I've never really thought of her that way. She's attractive, smart, funny when she wants to be, has a sarcastic streak to match my own, everything. It's definitely plausible that I've become attracted to her, now that I think about it...but fuck, I wasn't expecting it to just come flooding out like that. Don't think Melanis was, either. If that's even what her bite meant. For all I know, it could be a turian way of settling an argument when it's gone beyond words.

So instead of being angry at her being angry at me because of the mission, now I'm just confused. I mean, I know _I _like her. The kiss wasn't unpleasant, plus there's all the reasons I stated before, so I don't see any reason to lie to myself. It's been more than half a year since breaking up with Tali, plus the year where we barely spoke, so it's not exactly a rebound thing. The confusion primarily stems from whether she feels the same, and given how she reacted to kissing just there…it looks doubtful.

"Ahh, shit," I mutter to myself, the bite mark throbbing again. Well, this is embarrassing, particularly in a squad absolutely filled with turians. I can't go and see Monteague, because he'll know exactly what it is. I figure there's doctor-patient confidentiality, but the only drawback with that is that the doctor still knows. And when I see the doctor for at least two meals a day, and know it's in his personality to tease me with it, that's not an ideal situation. We didn't exchange any…fluids, as Mordin would so aptly put it, so I don't think I have an allergic reaction to worry about either.

I do need to cover this up. I've got some collared shirts up in the dorm, plus some medi-gel I can slap on to at least seal it up and help with the throbbing, so that ought to cover me. Plus I could do with some quiet time after that to think things through.

It doesn't stop me from starting to think as I walk up the stairs towards the dorm, though. Now that I've actually had a taste, so to speak…I do kind of want more with Melanis. Of course, the fact she now wants to kill me and/or have nothing to do with me doesn't help with that. I should just write it off and try to forget it ever happened. It's not like I'm suddenly falling head over heels for her, she's just…cute, I guess. I can live with a small, unfulfilled crush. Just got to forget that the bite and kiss ever happened.

…

That's never going to work, is it? Goddamn it, now I've got this on _top _of everything with Aria? Why is it always me? I let out a long sigh as I walk into the room. Everything's coming up Ian at the moment, isn't it?

"Is something bothering you, Ian?" Erash asks, making me give a small jolt in surprise as I see him sitting underneath my bunk, lowering his eReader down to look at me with his typically calm expression. Everyone else is downstairs, but I shouldn't be too surprised Erash came up for some quiet time with his book. He doesn't seem to mind me being here, though, and I don't mind him, so this works for me. Erash has a calming effect.

"Uh…no," I reply, trying to tilt the side of my neck with the bitemark away as I reach into the room's closet, pulling out a collared shirt and quickly pulling off my t-shirt to switch. "Just a bit of a stressful mission. You'll have heard off Garrus."

"Yes, I did," he nods. "Anything new from it?" I know he'll be looking at my torso, and the various cuts and scars I'm covered in. Since I'm usually in here to change shirts and stuff from time to time, along with a habit of sleeping topless since it's boiling on Omega in the artificial night, both of us have started plotting how many injuries I'm receiving after a mission.

I don't see anything that stands out as new, though, so I shake my head as I pull on the new shirt. "Nope. Nothing I can see."

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking back down at his book. "Because I could have sworn I saw a nasty bite mark on your neck when you walked in." One of his mandibles lifts in a smirk. "And I believe you just changed into that discarded t-shirt after you had your shower, didn't you? Did the colour scheme suddenly offend you in some manner?"

"Bite marks?" I ask, heart-rate jumping from the fact he picked up on it so fast. And it would be a bloody turian who sees them… "Nah, I must've…caught myself on a container or something."

"No, they're definitely bites," he says, standing up and pulling down my collar before I can stop him, staring inquisitively at the raw red mark. "Sharp teeth."

"They had guard varren."

"Varren teeth are not like needles."

"Vorcha got me."

"Neither Whiteguard nor the Talons hire vorcha."

I fold my arms, realising this is becoming somewhat pointless. "I'm guessing you've worked out by now I'm not telling the truth?"

"I might have an inkling," he says, smiling as he steps away from the collar and sits back down on the bed. "Regardless, it is none of my business." There's a small pause. "Though that looks like a new bite. And unless something happened in the shower, which I'm discounting that since I assume you do not 'swing that way', as the saying goes, there is only one place you could have obtained such a mark."

"So, it's none of your business, but you're going to pry anyway," I say, still feeling sensitive about what happened with Melanis. Of all the people who could find out, I suppose Erash is good…though no-one would have been much, much better.

"I am not prying. Merely conferring a friendly warning that people will be able to quickly and easily jump to conclusions about that bite. And from your reaction, I assume the conclusion is the correct one," he says, cheerfully sitting up in the bed as he rips me to pieces. That's what friends are for.

"Come on, cut me some slack," I protest, as Erash shuffles up to let me sit next to him. "All the turians here will have done some time in the military, I bet seeing people with bite marks is common on turian ships."

"Yes," Erash says, rumbling in amusement. "But that was with other turians. Not a human."

"We didn't even, like…you know, do anything," I explain, at least trying to clear the air about it now he knows. "Tensions reached a head, that happened, then I got kicked out before I could complement her fringe or her waist." Erash just watches me, apparently more than happy for me to keep digging myself a hole. How sweet of him. "Stop judging me."

"Did I ever say anything about judging?" he asks innocently. "I'm merely here in the capacity of a friend teasing another friend, not a judicial one."

"You're judging me with your eyes," I reply, laughing as Erash immediately takes them off me after I say that. "Come on, you must have had a few encounters with the opposite sex on your Cabal."

"Well, yes," he nods. "But I was usually good at making sure I got bitten _and _got to stay in the room."

"Touché,"

"Indeed," he grins. "As much as I dislike the military…I agree, there were some highlights."

"Well, I'm not the Alliance's number one fan, so you and I can bond over that," I smile, then notice Erash's biotic amp on the dresser next to our beds. "You know, I always found you being a biotic sniper weird. I thought biotics were usually close or medium range fighters?"

"I had a natural talent for sniper rifles," he shrugs. "And I had been exposed to element zero, so it made sense to gain talent with both. It also means I'm a capable fighter should things get too close for the rifle to be of much use. You are not the first person to ask that, though, so do not worry. I doubt very much you shall be the last."

"Crackshot and a biotic powerhouse," I say, giving an impressed whistle. "Bet they loved you on your ship." I lean back, folding my arms. "What was your ship called, actually? Turian ones have interesting names."

"I, erm…" Erash suddenly scratches behind his fringe, his usually flowing pattern of speech suddenly stumbling on that question. "I would rather not talk about it."

Eh? "Erash, mate, come on," I say. "It's just a ship name." He continues to look conflicted, unable to meet my eyes as he looks down at the floor. "What's wrong?" I ask, shuffling a bit closer to him. "Erash, we're good friends. Very, very good friends. If something's bothering you, I can help if you tell me what it is." This isn't like him at all…normally he's so calm and collected. Which makes his current state all the more worrying.

"It's nothing," he finally says, looking up. "I may as well tell you before you look it up yourself. And you won't have heard of it anyway. The _Taurcan. _It was a boring ship. No real battles of note."

"Alright, cool," I say, running the name over in my mind. Why does _Taurcan _sound so familiar? And why am I hearing it in Laet's voice?

Then it hits me.

_"You been able to find anything else about Darrael?" I ask, leaning against a wall, and preparing to back out of the conversation whenever it looks like it's going south._

_"Nothing new," Laet replies, frowning, but still bustling around with his work. "Why? Have you found something?"_

_"Wish I could say I had," I say apologetically. "I want to be able to keep an ear to the ground for you, though…and you never actually told me what the ship he served on was called."_

_"The __Taurcan,"__he replies, not turning around as he finally finds his tools. "Look, Ian…I appreciate what you're doing here, but all the evidence Garrus and I found says he's dead."_

_"It just doesn't hurt to keep an ear out," I shrug. "Look, unless I find something, I promise, I won't bring it up."_

I stare at Erash, knowing my eyes are widening as the revelation hits me, and his mandibles twitch nervously upon seeing I recognise the name. "The _Taurcan?_" I finally ask, barely able to speak. "You sure that was it?" Erash nods solemnly, making me look away in disbelief, shaking my head. That can't be right, can it? "Did you serve with another turian called Darrael?" Another solemn nod. He mustn't have expected me to know the ship name. And why should I? "Erash, that ship went missing almost two years ago. What the hell happened to everyone else? How did you get out?" I have to at least give him a chance to explain…I mean, this is Erash, for fuck's sake. It's got to be something perfectly innocent, there'll be an explanation.

"Do you remember the story I told you about my commanding officer?" he asks quietly. I nod, almost wanting to just leave the room before he can tell me something I can't unhear, but my natural curiosity leaves me sat next to him. "Everything about it is true…up until what happened after my crew turned on me. Assaulting a superior officer is a serious offence. A very, very serious offence. I never received a dishonourable discharge. I was placed in containment on the _Taurcan_, to stand trial once we returned to Palaven."

"But…but that's bull," I say. "You hit that CO to stand up for everyone else."

"That, unfortunately, was not the way he told it," Erash sighs, shame on his face obvious. "I would be sent to prison when we returned to Palaven. Wrongfully imprisoned by a man seeking his petty revenge. The thought made my blood boil as I sat in containment." I sit back, just listening to him talk, trying not to freak. This was supposed to be a relaxing conversation, for fuck's sake… "Then I was told the ship was stopping for emergency refuelling. Some of our engineers had made errors in their calculations, and we would require more to return to Palaven. My squad and I had been tracking slavers in the Terminus Systems, and the only place within range where we could refuel was…"

"Omega," I finish for him, already guessing where this is going.

"Correct," Erash nods. "I saw an opportunity. Darrael…he was assigned to guard me. We were friends, and I knew he was uncomfortable with what was happening to me. Not enough to fight back against our commander, but enough to be sympathetic. When I felt the ship touch down, I asked him if he would allow me one last breath of freedom, a walk through the ship I once knew as home, under guard, of course. I promised him I would not try and break free."

"And he trusted you," I whisper, shaking my head.

"Again, you are correct," Erash nods, mandibles drooping as he recalls the memories. "Once the door to my containment chamber was open, I threw a Shockwave at him. I abused his trust. He was unconscious before he hit the floor. From there, I made my way through the ship. The few of my squadmates who saw me, I incapacitated with biotics, and destroyed equipment within the ship that would need to be replaced in order to buy myself some time amongst the confusion. Cabals are small. We had perhaps twenty crew members, and I knocked out at least ten in my escape. My memory of the events is…somewhat hazy. It was two years ago, after all."

"And what happened next?" I ask, knowing the answer, but dreading hearing it from him.

"Mercenaries spotted a turian vessel in dock. With half of the crew incapacitated, equipment destroyed, and no fuel, they could not do anything. I heard three days after my escape of the acquisition of our ship and weaponry by mercenaries. No survivors. The _Taurcan _disappeared, and I let myself disappear with it. A new identity. A new start. With nineteen lives lost because of my actions." He hangs his head, shaking his head. "I have been hiding this for two years, Ian, and I am losing the will to lie. If anyone has earned the right to hear my confession, I believe it is you."

I stare at the ashamed turian, completely unsure of how to respond. This is Erash. My friend, brother in arms, a man I've come to know and respect over the course of almost two years. This is also a man telling me his actions got almost twenty people killed. I don't believe for a second he meant for this to happen with his escape…but that doesn't stop it being his fault. I don't even think he knows who Darrael was in relation to Laet, either. "Why couldn't you have just fought your case in the turian courts?" I finally ask. "Justice sides with the innocent."

"It would have come down to my word against my commanding officer's," he explains. "I would have lost the case before it had even begun. Escape was my only option."

"And was it worth it?" I ask, my voice quiet. If this was anyone else, I would have branded them a selfish murderer by now. But…it's Erash. I can't believe it. "Your life for nineteen others?"

"No," he snaps, anger suddenly in his face and eyes as he turns to me. "Do you honestly believe I could ever feel that it was worth it? Their actions were wrong, but none deserved death for them! Not even my commanding officer." His head sinks back down again, voice becoming quieter. "Especially not Darrael."

This…I don't know how to describe what it is I'm feeling. In Erash's circumstances, I would have tried to escape. I wouldn't have thought far enough ahead about the consequences, beyond me staying away from wrongful imprisonment. So I understand him. But at the same time…what he did cost nineteen people their lives. Not nineteen evil people, nineteen people who didn't deserve it. Is there ever a really justification for that?

Especially when I promised one of their brothers I'd get to the bottom of it?

"What was Darrael's surname?" I ask, keeping my voice calm.

"Virinti," he replies, immediately. "Darrael Virinti."

There's no easy way to put this, but I need him to know about Laet. Maybe Erash finding that out could cause…I don't know, something. Maybe cause him to confess to Laet what he just confessed to me. I don't know. "Do you know Laet's surname?"

"I…I did not," Erash says, and I see his throat move in a gulp. "But from your tone of voice, I believe I do now. Darrael was…"

"His brother," I say. "The _Taurcan _disappearing is why he came to Omega, Erash." I shake my head, getting up from the bed and pacing up and down. Why does this have to be Erash? Why couldn't the mysterious villain behind the _Taurcan _be someone I'm capable of hating, not the friend who, of his own free will, admitted his crime to me to try and absolve some of his guilt? "I promised him I'd tell him what happened to Darrael."

"Then you should," Erash says immediately. No hesitation. "I have spent two years running from what I did. Perhaps seeing the consequences of my actions will help me achieve the resolution my work here has not."

"That's why you joined up?" I ask. "Killing the mercs who killed your crew would be some kind of redemption?"

"That was my reasoning," Erash nods. "A fight to try and get revenge on their killers. When all I ever had to do was turn the rifle on myself to achieve that."

I shake my head, sitting next to him again. I want to run and tell Laet about this. I really do. But…I can't. Not yet. Not with Erash like this. "Which is what a coward would do," I say, shaking my head at the turian. "You're not a coward, Erash. If you're looking for punishment for what you did, then living with that knowledge is the best one you can have."

"Hence why I never did turn that rifle," he says sadly. "I thought turning my skill to the vultures of Omega would be enough of a purpose to my life. To live doing something good, until the act itself kills me."

"And you are," I say. I've decided. I can't blame Erash for this. He made a terrible, terrible error, one he'll have to live with. But he will. Telling Laet may very well get him killed, or thrown out of the squad, which is just one more waste. Especially given what Erash is doing for the people of Omega now. "You are doing something good. Just…fucking Christ, Erash. I still can't believe this."

"And I doubt Laet will either," Erash says. "Go. You should tell him." Once again, I feel the temptation to go and tell Laet, to fulfil my promise…but I shake my head. I've made my decision. This is what feels right to me.

"I can't," I tell the turian. "There's been too much wasted already because of you. I understand why you did what you did, but I don't approve. I never will. And I don't ever think I'll look at you in the same way after this, Erash. But stopping you from helping people in Omega after Laet gets you kicked out of here, or worse, doesn't help anyone."

"It helps Laet," Erash points out. "It lets him understand what happens."

"Sometimes the truth is better when it stays hidden," I reply.

Erash stays silent for a few moments, thinking it over, then nods. "As you wish. If you feel I will be better redeemed continuing my role here…then I shall. But I leave you the choice. If you tell Laet, I will not oppose you, and I will not judge you." Even after finding out what he did…I still can't help but feel respect for Erash. He tried to run all these years, but now he's admitted to his crimes, he's ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be. I'm doing what I feel is right here…God knows if it really is.

"Thanks," I finally say, getting up from the bed again, Erash's head still bowed in shame. "I think we both need some time to think things over."

"Yes," he replies, nodding sombrely. "We do." I can't really think of anything to say back to that, and honestly, I don't think I need to. With one last glance at the shamed turian, I turn and slowly walk back down the stairs towards the living room, mind ablaze with thoughts.

I just hope I made the right decision there. I really do. Some people would argue that Erash doesn't deserve a second chance after what he did…and although I disagree, I'm finding it harder and harder to just ignore that point of view. As much as I'd like to be completely comfortable with what I chose, I know I'm going to be mulling this over for a long, long while now. For fuck's sake…

"Hey," Garrus says, looking over from a sofa once I reach the living room. "I had a look through that list of names you gave me."

"And?" I ask, shaking all thoughts of Melanis, Erash and Laet from my mind. Laet's not in the room, thankfully, so that makes things a lot easier.

"We don't have much information on Shirion or Shurta," he says, sounding pissed off about that fact. "Rhi'hesh Shurta runs Whiteguard, and Selkeet Shirion's one of his enforcers, but a high level one. Apparently they both started the club up together, but Shirion's the brains, so he took the leadership while Shurta stuck to his strengths."

"Strengths being kicking the crap out of people," I say.

"Pretty much," Garrus nods. "No location for them, though. We know where the major Whiteguard bases are, but not if Shirion or Shurta live in one. If they live in private housing, we don't know either."

"So we won't be asking them for information on the Maelstroms any time soon," I sigh.

"Unless we get lucky, no," Garrus replies, shaking his head. "But we had better luck with Harga. Kron Harga's an infamous slaver, particularly for supplying the Blood Pack, but he does contracts with anyone on Omega or beyond who needs slave labour."

"Well, I see the connection to Whiteguard," I say, "but I don't see how going after Harga gets us any closer to the Maelstroms."

"If he's been dealing with Whiteguard, he might know where Shirion and Shurta are. If we find out their location and go after them, they'll be able to tell us where they're keeping the Maelstroms," he explains. Ah, that's a good point… "Besides, he's a slaver. I don't know why we haven't gone after him sooner." And that's an even better point.

Presumably this is leading up to a mission, then, and considering I'm being told about this it's a fair assumption I'll be involved. "What's the plan, then?"

"Harga lives in an apartment complex in Blood Pack territory," Garrus says. "You and I are going to go in there, tonight, catch him off guard, and get the information we need about Shirion and Shurta." Tonight? Damn it, I was actually planning on going to sleep quite soon. Then again, if Harga's following the same logic I am at this time of night, that does present a better opportunity to us. "We can't get too close in the shuttle without giving ourselves away, so travel light."

"Alright," I say, standing up from the sofa. "I'm assuming you want me to gear up now? Right after I had a shower and got changed."

"Life's cruel, Ian," Garrus says, grinning and slapping me on the shoulder as he stands up and walks past me, presumably to get his own stuff together. "Get used to it."

"Believe me, I think I'm getting there," I mutter under my breath, feeling the bite wound throb again as I head towards my own locker, grabbing my light armour and pistol. Looks like we're off on a slaver hunt, then. Hopefully I can keep my mind off all the crazy shit that happened in the last half an hour enough to actually perform on the mission.

The biggest threat of my life hanging over my head, one ambiguous relationship with a female turian, one secret that I'm not even sure I should be keeping, and now a Blood Pack protected slaver to top this whole thing off.

The suicide mission is looking more appealing every day.

**A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed all the revelations and ambiguity there. Like Garrus said, the squad now has another target; Kron Harga, slaver. Look forward to that next chapter!**

**Oh, and we passed 1500 reviews very recently (lol wut?) so huge, huge thanks to you all for that, and helping make/keep this story awesome. Cheers.**

**So, have a good day, and see you next time!**


	49. Ian vs The Krogan

Chapter 49

Pendulum: Showdown

Kron Harga's apartment building. Tall thing, at least ten stories high, dull metallic surface of the walls glowing a soft red from Omega's lights. The lobby has glass fronted windows looking out onto the street, but nothing as sophisticated as a reception desk, just a screen on the wall facing the doors showing a muted news channel, a few chairs scattered about in an order that's as random as the colour scheme. The floor is white, but the walls seem to have been painted by someone getting buckets of paint and throwing them around until the walls were roughly covered. The fact it's such a small lobby, maybe fifteen metres square, really doesn't help.

"Alright," I say to Garrus, as we shelter in the shadows next it. The krogan slaver has, naturally, the top floor penthouse, seeing as it's the best place around here that money can buy. Slavers may be the lowest form of living thing in the galaxy but selling your humanity, so to speak, does pay awfully well. I don't think I've known of a single poor slaver. Then again, all the slavers I know are now dead, so being rich isn't too useful when they're six feet under. Or floating outside an airlock somewhere, which is how Omega tends to take care of burials. "The key to getting through situations like this is not to say things like 'it's quiet, too quiet', or 'everything's going according to plan'."

"No, I think the key to this is to walk in the front door, take the elevator up to his apartment, find out what we need to know and then shoot him," Garrus replies, peeking his head around the corner to look into the lobby. "The place is empty."

"No security?" I ask, raising an eyebrow beneath my helmet. "Huh. Slavers tend to be the most paranoid people on Omega."

"Yeah, but those slavers aren't krogan," the turian explains. "There's an element of pride involved. Can you imagine Wrex ever hiring bodyguards?"

Ah, that's a good point. Krogan tend to take care of their own problems and protection. "I think Wrex would rather just take the bullet than have someone else do it for him," I chuckle.

"Most krogan take the same attitude," Garrus says, chuckling too. "With good reason. Most slavers hire people because they can't take care of themselves, but I don't think we should take that chance with a krogan."

"Agreed," I nod, checking my pistol is in its holster. Damn having to travel light. Ideally I'd have a rocket launcher for going up against a krogan, but oh well. "Trust me, I'm well past the point where I'll underestimate one of them, the amount of times they've almost killed us. That and seeing Wrex in action. Wouldn't mind him being here right now, to be honest."

"Yeah, but he's busy ruling that big red rock," Garrus says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice when he says that. As much as Garrus and Wrex do really get along, both hate to admit it, and the odd dig at each other still comes up from time to time in conversation with Garrus and messages with Wrex. They both know I disapprove, which probably just acts as a catalyst for the whole thing, to be honest.

"That big red rock needs someone like him, believe it or not," I say, looking into the lobby of the apartment building myself. Everything inside is clear, and we snuck past the Blood Pack easy enough by parking the cruiser far away and sticking to the rooftops. "Maybe Wrex can get them to stop killing each other long enough to rebuild their species."

"Maybe, but I won't hold my breath," Garrus says, pointing a talon to the building. "As fascinating as discussing krogan politics is, I think we should get in there while the sleep cycle is still active."

"Just because you know I'm right about them," I say teasingly, as we press off the wall and move up to the doors into the apartment block, pistols drawn as we walk in and sweep the area for hostiles in practiced movements. No-one. "We're clear," I say, holstering my pistol and walking into the elevator with Garrus on my heels. Looks like you need a keycard to operate it, surprise surprise, so I open my omni-tool to start hacking.

"You might not be right," Garrus says, as I look back while the algorithm does its work. "The krogan haven't exactly proved they're ready for peace."

"I thought we were done talking about krogan politics?" I ask innocently, smiling as I look up at the turian. God knows he hates to lose an argument.

"We are," he says, scratching behind his fringe awkwardly. "I'm just saying."

"Saying what?" I reply, smiling as he gets more uncomfortable. "That you can't bear to admit the krogan can turn over a new leaf?"

He stares at me, then shakes his head. "I have no idea, seeing as I don't understand a word of what you just said. Tuchanka doesn't have trees."

"Make a new start," I say, rephrasing it. "Gotta have a little faith, Garrus. And you have to admit, if anyone can do it, it's Wrex."

"I can't deny that," Garrus admits, as the hack finishes and I straighten up, setting the elevator to travel to the penthouse. "But he's just one man. You have to admit, the odds aren't exactly in his favour."

"One man who can rip apart geth armatures with his bare hands," I say, making Garrus laugh. Admittedly, I might feel a little more cynical if I didn't know Wrex was making progress with the clans in ME2, so I don't blame Garrus. "He'll get it done. It's Wrex."

"I hope he can," the turian says, leaving us in thoughtful silence as the elevator begins its ascent. Unfortunately, leaving me in my own thoughts is making me think about Erash, and how confident I keep trying to tell myself I am about not telling Laet. It's a moral question without an obvious right answer. The greater good dictates I shouldn't, but then I have to hide from Laet the answer to the question that brought him to Omega. Sleepless nights here we come.

I close my eyes quickly, trying to change my train of thought, which just leads me onto Melanis. Oh, for fuck's sake…that train wreck. I'm still not quite sure what happened with her, or why she suddenly got so insistent on me leaving. Although…I do have romance extraordinaire Garrus Vakarian in here with me. If I just find the right opening line, maybe I can try to understand what happened in there?

"So, uh, I was thinking," I say, trying to find a decent excuse to start this conversation. "That story you mention about reach and flexibility…what happened with the turian in that?" Garrus' helmet turns to me, head cocked in surprise. Oh, _fuck, _I just realised how that sounded. "No, no, I don't mean like intimate details, I just mean why you two didn't stick together after that."

The shock seems to disappear from Garrus, but it's replaced with a curious tone as he looks at me. "That's an odd question."

"Just curious," I shrug, trying to play it cool. "I'm always interested in the stories behind the little things that get brought up in the games."

"You know, if I didn't know you better, I'd say this is just a cover for a bigger question, but alright," Garrus says, voice suggesting amusement. Well, he's suspicious, but he's not worked it out completely, so that's better than I thought. "We were just doing it to blow off steam, first of all. I mean, I did bond with her during the sparring, and, uh, after, but turian women can be quite demanding. We had our tiebreaker, then she kicked me out."

"Kicked you out?" I ask, trying to contain my curiosity. "Why?"

"No idea," he shrugs. "Probably because we'd been at each others throats the whole time and she wasn't ready to get over that. Or she just didn't feel like I was worthy of her. That's common." Not worthy of her…considering the amount Melanis berated me beforehand, and what she seems to think of me overall, that wouldn't surprise me.

So, I'm not worthy, huh? Not much I can do about that now, but I store it away for future use. Definitely something to consider. As suicidal as it is, I'm struggling not to think about kissing her, and how damn _nice _it was. Even with the Maelstroms and everything else, I'm not gonna be put off that easily. At least not until I get a good explanation as to why she bit me.

"This elevator is taking fucking ages, isn't it?" I ask rhetorically, looking at the display on the right hand wall. We're only one floor away from the penthouse, thankfully, so not too long now.

"Don't they always?" Garrus replies, just as the elevator finally dings for the penthouse floor, and the doors slide open, letting us draw our handguns again and step out into the plush corridor, with only one door leading into the apartment. A locked door. Of course.

"You want to get this one, or should I?" I ask.

"You're the hacker, I thought," he says, chuckling as I sigh and bring my omni-tool up.

"Lazy bastard," I mutter, tweaking the algorithm to fit the lock type and letting it loose. "You're just as good with tech as I am."

"And I'm the one in charge. It's called delegation, Ian, it's a sign of a good leader."

"Suuure," I reply sarcastically, as the door lock turns green and Garrus hovers a talon over it. "What's the plan?"

"Burst in while we still have the element of surprise," he says. "We find Harga as fast as we can, especially before he can get his hands on a weapon, subdue him, and then have a nice, long talk about Whiteguard."

"Sounds good," I nod, tensing at the side of the door with my pistol gripped in both hands. "Let's do it."

With that, Garrus slides the door open, letting us burst through and quickly look around the place. The whole apartment glass walls between rooms, making it look open plan, asides from one small room which I assume is a bathroom, and one larger room in the back corner which must be the bedroom. A staircase is in the centre of the apartment, presumably leading up to the roof access of the penthouse.

There's a kitchen to the right hand side, along with a well stocked bar complete with stools and mahogany counter, and a living area with a huge sofa and even bigger television further along the right wall. The left hand side is dominated by a huge office, complete with holographic board for important information and emails, plus a desk, terminal and datapads strewn about it. Harga's obviously hands on with the business side of things.

"I'll check the bedroom, you look around the office," I say, switching to the radio frequency to remain quiet as Garrus nods and peels off to inspect the holographic display. I stealthily jog past the kitchen and living area until I reach the door to the bedroom, which is thankfully lit up green as I raise the pistol. Now to open it, point it at him, and pray he doesn't decide to fight back.

I open the door, pointing my pistol in. I get a whole second to stare in disbelief until I'm flying back from a punch in the gut, groaning as I slide across the floor until my back impacts the sofa, Garrus' head swivelling to look at me, then to the person walking out of the bedroom.

"Garm?" I grunt, already tasting blood in my mouth as I stagger to my feet and raise my pistol at the Blood Pack leader again. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Fulfilling a contract," he grunts, tensing his arms and fists as he glares at me with yellow eyes, his voice rumbling through the whole room as he looks over to Garrus. "Harga thought you might be coming."

"And how the hell did he jump to that conclusion?" I ask, trying to buy time to recover from that punch. Fucking hell, he hits like a truck…

"You attacked a spaceport used by a merc crew he supplies with slaves," Garm says, sounding pretty bored as he explains. Then again, he always sounds bored. "That's usually the build up to an assassination attempt with you two, so he assumed you were his target. He called me in to wait for you when you came for him. Delivered you straight into my hands."

He does, I have to admit, a reasonable point there. We do have a notorious MO. "Well, if we can't kill him, we'll settle with you instead," Garrus says confidently from the side, pointing his pistol as well.

"A turian and a human," Garm rumbles. "Right. You may as well drop your weapons and throw yourselves out of the windows. At least it would be quicker for you that way."

"But where would the fun in that be?" I ask, feeling sufficiently recovered as I tense on the balls of my feet, eyes on the Claymore attached to Garm's back. We need that out of play, or we're done. No doubt Garrus will have had the same idea.

"Exactly, Delipool," he says, dangerous smile forming on his face as he stares me down. Delipool? Really? "My thoughts exactly. After everything you two have done to us, I want as much fun as I can get."

"Aww," I say mockingly, folding my arms. "You mad, bro? You sound mad." Getting a krogan angry is generally a bad idea, but pissing him off is gonna leave him less likely to think ahead about our tactics. And if that lets us get the Claymore off him, it's worth it.

Garm confirms he is mad, though, by letting out a roar and charging straight at me, reaching for his shotgun and bringing it up just before he reaches me. The move, however, was easy to see coming, letting me dive roll to the side before the blast hits the spot where I was standing and bring up my pistol as I stand again, shots swallowed up by his barrier as he reloads the shotgun and looks at me again, grinning confidently.

Garrus is on him before he can ready the shot, kicking the barrel of the Claymore and knocking it away from me, though Garm manages to keep his grip on it. The turian ducks under a wild swing from the butt of the shotgun, giving me enough time to run up to Garm with my knife and drive it into the back of his left hand, causing it to let go of the gun as he roars out in pain. Garrus grabs the Claymore with both hands, managing to wrestle it free in the brief moment of pain Garm experiences, but the success is short lived as Garm bats us both with his left arm.

My armour takes most of the impact, even though the force makes both Garrus and I stagger back. Garm's eyes set back on the Claymore, but before he can try to get it back, Garrus turns around and sprints towards the window, wrestling with the controls to open it as Garm lunges for him. In an idiotic move to buy him time, I jump inbetween them with my pistol drawn and pointed at his head, finger ready on the trigger.

Garm reacts with incredible speed for a krogan, fist slamming into my wrist and causing the handgun to fly out as I yelp in pain, clutching at my hand as Garm lifts me up by the neck, just as Garrus lets out a crow of success, presumably from getting the window open and throwing the gun out. Letting out an angered shout, Garm lifts the arm he's holding me with back, and physically hurls me at Garrus.

"Watch o-" I manage, before I crash into the turian in a heap of limbs, my hand and neck aching as I look over my shoulder…to see the krogan bearing down on us, one foot raised in the air for a stomp. Oh, shit! Garrus and I both roll in opposite directions, the stomp denting the floor where we were lying as I scramble to my feet, completely weaponless. Garrus still has his pistol, though, and Garm stomps off towards him as he starts shooting, leaving me frantically looking around for a weapon.

My eyes fall upon the television stood opposite the sofa, miraculously unharmed by any Claymore or Predator shots as I dash over to it and pick it up. Thank fuck these things have lightweight designs… I look back at Garrus as the sound of pistol shots suddenly cease. Garm's holding him by the wrist, smile spreading over the krogan's face as Garrus lets out a flanging yell of pain, knees buckling as the lock gets tighter and tighter. I sprint at Garm with the television held over my head, leaping up and smashing it down screenfirst on his skull before quickly leaping back as he lets go of Garrus and tries a two handed smash behind himself.

The screen's cut his face quite significantly as he lifts it off himself with a grunt, Garrus frantically crawling back towards the holographic board as Garm turns to me, hefting the screen in both hands before throwing it at my head as hard as he can. I barely manage to get out of the way in time, throwing myself towards the bar and kitchen as I feel the screen sail inches above me, exploding against the wall in a shower of sparks. The speed that thing was going, it would've bloody decapitated me…

I turn to face Garm as I reach the bar, the krogan striding confidently towards me, his expression pure anger as I try to adopt some kind of fighting stance. Holy shit, the cuts on his face have already healed. This…this just isn't fair. At all. The bar stools are metal, and thankfully not stuck to the floor, so I pick the first one up as Garm reaches me, pull it back, and swing it into the side of his head as hard as I can.

He grunts and pulls back, the metal bent uselessly in my hands as I drop it and repeat the same move with another stool. Then another, then the last one. Garm has a massive gouge in the side of his face from the hits, but he just chuckles, the wound already healing as he looks down at me, my arms aching from the effort. "Come on, that's just not fair -" I start to say, but he flares up with biotics, pushing me and knocking me off my feet before I can react and sending me straight through the glass wall. I slide into the office, Garrus standing at the other end of the holographic board to where I am with his omni-tool open.

Garm laughs, obviously enjoying himself with two unarmed vigilantes as I scramble to my feet, staggering towards Garrus, anything faster impossible from how winded I am. "Travel light, you said," I cough, reaching him as Garm faces us down at the opposite end of the room, presumably reading himself for a charge. "Do you know how fucking useful the HVB would be right now?"

"We wouldn't have been able to get here half as fast with you carrying that," Garrus replies, his eyes flitting between Garm and his omni-tool. His voice sounds more normal than mine, but he's obviously feeling the pain from the hits he's taken. My ribs are aching something hellish. I don't think they'll have broken with my armour protecting me, but there's going to be some horrendous bruising later. Assuming Garm doesn't crush my head like a juicy watermelon.

"Great," I gasp back. "At least we got to our deaths in record time."

"I've got a plan," Garrus hisses. "Let him charge at us, and _don't _move." Uh…what? He keeps double checking his omni-tool, Garm grinning wider and wider, suddenly letting out a roar and charging at us, his shoulder down for a most likely lethal smash. Armour or not, I can't take that momentum.

"Don't move?" I ask, every nerve yelling at me to dodge as Garm thunders towards us, seconds away from impact. "Garrus!" I scream, panic threatening to take over…just as the turian stabs down on his omni-tool, and the holographic display suddenly comes crashing off it, landing on top of the krogan and knocking him down, the lower half of his body trapped underneath it as Garrus turns to look at me smugly. "You hacked the wall brackets," I say, still panting from the adrenaline as Garm roars and tries to wriggle free. "Alright, that was a genuinely good plan."

"So glad I have your approval," Garrus replies sarcastically, walking over to Garm and placing his foot on the krogan's neck. "Looks like the turian and human could handle you after all, Garm."

"Please, Archangel, finish me," the krogan says, his blood rage obviously dying off as he grins wide. "It'll give my men enough time to corner you in here. I called them in as soon as I heard you come in." Oh, _shit, _that's not good. We're in Blood Pack territory, and the nearest base is five minutes away, at best. Plus the troops will have been on alert if he expected to be here. Which means they'll turn up…any second now. Garrus did say in ME2 he almost managed to kill Garm before his goons showed up. I guess this is the explanation.

Garrus kicks down on Garm's neck, making the krogan grunt in pain, but whatever damage that did will already be healing as I grab Garrus' arm. "He's right. It'll take us too long to beat him to death, and we're not gonna find something in here to kill him with in time. I'd rather all three of us made it out alive than all three of us died."

Garrus stares down at the krogan, then sighs, taking his foot off. "What if he's lying?" he asks, though it sounds half-hearted. "We should look for something to finish the job-"

He suddenly stops talking as the elevator outside the front door lets out a muffled dinging. "Too late," Garm grunts smugly, as I push Garrus towards the staircase in the centre of the room, both of us running up the steps two at a time as the door suddenly slides open, a shotgun blast impacting just below my feet as I hear multiple krogan and vorcha shouting and hissing downstairs. "What took you so long?" Garm shouts, as I frantically look around the flat penthouse roof. From here, it's just a straight vertical drop down the wall back onto Omega's streets.

"You got grav clips?" I shout to Garrus, opening my omni-tool as I continue running towards the edge of the roof, stopping just before it as I start altering the settings for mine.

"Yeah, but we've not got time to crawl down this wall!" he shouts back.

"I know! Lower the gravity setting so they're only loosely attracted to the wall!" I yell back, then slowly lower myself to hang from the lip of the roof, attaching my knees and feet to the wall, along with my left arm. If I hadn't practiced this with Melanis, it would seem idiotic…hell, with a drop ten stories high, it _still _seems idiotic as I breathe in deeply, steeling myself. It's this, or being captured and/or killed by the Blood Pack. The drop is preferable.

"This is idiotic!" Garrus shouts, confirming what I already thought as he lowers himself to join me. I take a look over the roof, then quickly duck my head back down as a burst of assault rifle fire slams into the surface just in front of me, a whole bunch of Blood Pack troopers charging at us.

"Trust me, I know!" I shout, making sure I'm as close to the wall as possible…then I let go of the roof, starting my slide down the surface. Doing this with Melanis, we only practiced a few metres high. This is significantly more than a few metres. The G-force is causing a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach as Garrus and I slide, picking up speed at a horrifically quick rate as I press myself into the wall as hard as I can, forces threatening to tear me off it, and I don't even dare look down.

I finally muster up the courage to look after what feels like a minute of sliding, but can't have been more than twenty seconds, to see the ground rushing up towards me, only two stories left. The landing speed is manageable if I roll…but fuck, this is gonna hurt. "Get ready!" I shout to Garrus, spying a krogan waiting in the street below us. Okay, just gotta jump off and flatten him…

The krogan flares up blue, throwing out both hands a few metres before we reach the bottom and yanking us off the wall. What the hell? Is he trying to help us? I turn my head to look…and see the Blood Pack insignia on his armour. Just as I see a biotic blue creep across my body to the grav clips. And I remember Laet's warning about biotics and grav clips. The feeling of gravity being reversed on my limbs makes me scream out, Garrus joining in my noise as the pressure builds and builds, my bones feeling ready to crunch as they're put under unbelievable strain. There's a sudden crunch from next to me, Garrus' left arm snapping into a physically impossible position as his scream fills the air, my limbs feeling ready to join his…

Then a sudden shotgun blast sounds, and I'm falling out of the air before I even realise it, bones aching as I thud into the ground and look up blearily, trying to clear my vision as the pain leaves me weak. Garrus is writhing next to me, still yelling as he tries to roll off his arm…and is helped by a shotgun clutching batarian, who manages to roll Garrus over and pull him up, giving him a shoulder to lean on. That's not Grundan…he's not wearing armour, just plain civilians close. I stagger up to my feet, staring at the batarian in surprise as he looks around quickly, Garrus' yells reduced to grunts of pain as the batarian helps him. "Who the fuck are you?" I ask in shock, looking to the batarian.

"One of your supporters," the batarian replies gruffly. "Move. They're going to come looking for that noise, and come looking for you. We need to hide." With that, he takes off down the street, Garrus managing a half-run. I shake my head in disbelief, but take off after the two of them, dipping into a side alley with the batarian. We run along the claustrophobic space for a couple of minutes, before he turns to a small door on our right, quickly unlocking the door and hurrying me in.

It closes and locks behind us, leading into an absolutely miniscule kitchen, with barely enough room for a table and chair which the batarian leads Garrus to, letting him sit in it as the turian groans with pain again, cradling his bad arm as I turn to the batarian. As much as I don't trust people on Omega, he just saved our lives. I can probably ease up on being a prick to him. "Thanks," I say, still gasping from all the exertions recently as I reach out a hand for him to shake. The batarian takes it, surprisingly, nodding his head to me. "I just…what do you mean, you're a supporter?"

"Not everyone on Omega hates Archangel," the batarian explains, moving to the small window that looks out onto the street and peeking through it. "You've got your fair share of support out here. The Blood Pack can die in a fire, as far as I care, the way they treat any non-merc in this district, so when I heard they were after you I thought I'd see if I could help."

Wow. That does seem a tad extreme…but I'm not going to point that out right now. "As much as I'd normally encourage people not to get involved in our danger, I gotta say, I'm so fucking glad you did," I say, actually getting a chuckle out of the batarian as I look over to Garrus. "We'll get that patched up, mate, we just need to wait until we're in the clear."

"Painkillers," he gasps, pointing to a pocket on his armour that's out of reach of his good arm. I quickly reach in, pulling out a vacuum sealed capsule and popping it open for him. The turian snatches it up in his talon, quickly swallowing it and resuming his pained groaning as he slumps in the chair. Monteague'll be able to fix him up with a bone weave, but fuck, that's gotta be hurting right now.

"As insensitive as this is gonna sound, can you drive with one hand?" I ask Garrus. As sorry as I feel for him, the fact remains we're not out of the woods yet. And if we don't have a driver, we never will be.

"I can manage," Garrus gasps, nodding. "Just let the painkiller kick in."

"You've got maybe a half an hour before the mercs come to everyone's door to look for you," the batarian grunts, before I get the chance to say something more caring to Garrus. "I can send them in the wrong direction, but I've got nowhere to hide you in here. You need to be gone."

As much as somewhere to hide for a long while would be nice, that's understandable. The less time we spend in Blood Pack territory, the better. Especially with Garm after us. "We'll get going as soon as we can," I say. "You've done more than enough for us already. Archangel, you feeling ready to move?"

Garrus lets out a pained sigh, but nods. "Screwing up my arm isn't going to stop me from running."

"If the mercs come knocking, tell them we headed towards Afterlife," I say. The shuttle's parked in the exact opposite direction, so that's ideal. "Look, I don't know what your name is-"

"Raveg," he says.

"Thank you, Raveg," I say, shaking his hand again. "We owe you our lives." Can't believe I'm saying that to a batarian…though I think that's only because Grundan's spoiled their species for me.

"Lot of people on Omega owe you theirs," he replies. "So we're even." I walk over and help Garrus to his feet, but the painkiller's effect means I don't have to act as a support for him to move around, though he won't be using that broken arm for anything.

"Stay safe, Raveg," I nod, moving to the door and opening it.

"Same to you," he replies, returning my nod as Garrus and I step out into the Omegan street. Well. Damn. I knew we had support, I've just never seen it in action like this. All things considered, this was one hell of a time for my first experience of it. We'd have been a mess of mashed bones if it wasn't for him.

"Another failed mission," I say to Garrus, managing a half chuckle as we run, his breaths sharp from the break in his arm. "We're falling into a habit."

"Not exactly," he gasps. "I saw something on the holographic board I managed to download on my omni-tool while you were investigating Harga's bedroom. I think I've found our route into Whiteguard and the Maelstrom bombs." I turn my head to look at him, unable to help cracking a smile under my helmet.

"If it didn't make you pass out from the pain on your arm, I'd hug you right now," I say, mood buoyed by the news. Even if we did get the crap kicked out of us, we actually have a lead. That's one more thing than we had when we got here.

"Let Monteague reattach my arm first," Garrus says, as we break out of the small alleyway onto a road that leads back into a safer district controlled by Aria, where we parked the shuttle. "But it looks like we're finally getting somewhere."

The sound of Blood Pack voices and cruisers fades away as we push further into the safer district, and I gasp a sigh of relief as I see the building where the shuttle's waiting for us. Despite aches and pains all over, a broken arm on Garrus, and losing out on the chance to kill the Blood Pack leader, we're making progress. And we're still breathing. That counts as a good mission in my books.

Now it's time to celebrate by getting back to base, and trying to sort out my clusterfuck of a social life back there.

Goddamn it.


	50. Ian vs The Flash

Chapter 50

Two Door Cinema Club: Undercover Martyn

"Watch the arm," Garrus gasps, as I help him clamber out of the shuttle and back into the base, accidentally brushing his broken arm with my fingers as he steps carefully down onto solid ground. Fortunately, since we weren't in high speed pursuit, one handed driving wasn't too much of a dent on Garrus' already questionable driving skills, so we made it out away from our Blood Pack pursuers in one piece.

"You sound like Joker," I say, chuckling as I walk him towards the living room, Monteague and the others already jogging out to meet us. I actually had the foresight to radio ahead about Garrus being injured this time, quickly receiving assurances from Monteague that he'd be able to treat Garrus within the hour. Bone weave is a miraculous treatment one hundred and seventy years of scientific advancement gave us, so it shouldn't take more than a day for Garrus to be mended. Though that's not much consolation until you actually get patched up, since a broken bone still hurts as much as it ever did.

"Joker snapped in half if you just tapped his arm," Garrus says, grunting as he accidentally moves his arm again. "We had our limbs crushed by gravity. I'm allowed to complain." I roll my eyes at him, helmet already retracted into my armour as Monteague rushes up to him, sling materials already in hand.

"This might sting, but keep your arm held against your chest like that," the drell orders, quickly tucking the material underneath and securing it around the back of Garrus' neck to give his arm some kind of support. The turian's mandibles widen and his eyes close briefly from the sensation, but he manages to suppress any pained noise. Presumably because the whole squad is watching at this point.

It only takes Monteague half a minute to get the sling on, then all of us walk back into the base and the living area, Monteague already gathering medical facts as we move. "What happened?" he asks.

"Our grav clips got reversed by biotics," Garrus replies, shooting Laet a glare as the other turian looks at the injury. "The krogan who did it paid more attention to me than Ian, so I got the break."

"Hey, I did warn you about the biotics," Laet protests, looking to me. "Don't even try to deny that." I can't help but unconsciously glance at Erash upon seeing Laet, the turian's face expressionless as he looks at me. Not compelling me to do anything, not judging me. I'd almost rather he did. At least that would give some better guidance.

"You did," I nod, managing a smile as I look away from Erash. "It's just dodging them that's easier said than done. You didn't mention how much it hurt, though."

"I assumed you would have guessed that an extremely powerful force on your bones would have caused some damage," Laet replies cheekily. "Besides, Monteague'll be able to fix you up, Garrus. He's good with his hands." Pretty much everyone in the squad laughs at that, including Garrus, as I'm left a little puzzled. I mean, Monteague's a damned fine medic…but why's that funny? I need to get in on this joke one day, I swear.

"Let me brief everyone first," Garrus says, pushing off towards the sofas even as Monteague tries to steer him towards the medical room. "The lead we got from Harga's apartment isn't going to wait." Monteague's eyes narrow in annoyance, but he nods, letting Garrus sit down along with the rest of us. The drell goes and sits with Melanis, who's shooting daggers at me, before muttering something in Monteague's ear and making him laugh. Well, she's obviously still angry at me. There's a shock.

"So Harga has biotics?" Butler asks. "They're the worst kind of krogan. Just in case they cannae smash your face in up close, they can make you blow up with their mind."

"Nope, not Harga," I say. "Well, I hope he doesn't, anyway. He wasn't there. Left us a nice surprise in the shape of Garm, though."

"He worked out we were coming and left a trap," Garrus says, continuing from where I left off. "We didn't have time to finish him off before reinforcements arrived. We had a run in with another biotic krogan on the way out, but a batarian helped us out. Apparently our supporters are active when they need to be."

"Funny how a batarian was the one to help you out," Grundan mutters, looking straight at me. It's not worth the reply, though, and Garrus continues talking.

"I managed to get something off Harga's databoard before Garm appeared, though," Garrus says, opening his omni-tool and displaying what he found. It's a basic poster, with the words 'WHITEGUARD RECRUITMENT DRIVE' emblazoned across the top. "Whiteguard are running a recruitment drive at their main base, tonight, with Shurta in attendance."

Okay, that's got me thinking straight away. A recruitment drive suddenly announced right after we attack one of their spaceports, with the fact that the leader of Whiteguard will be in attendance on the poster for it, despite his presence adding no discernible benefit to the event. So why would they advertise that so blatantly? Why is the timing so close to the spaceport attack? Why suddenly announce it instead of giving a week to build interest? Considering Harga worked out we were coming because of his links to Whiteguard, would it really be that surprising if Whiteguard made the same assumption?

"It's a trap," I say, only narrowly resisting the temptation to put on an Admiral Ackbar voice as I say it. "Has to be. They'll have worked out we're after them, the exact same as Harga did, and this is them making sure they lure at least one of us in."

"I know," Garrus nods. "I might have fallen for it before, but after how ready Harga was, this doesn't feel right. But you're still going, Ian."

I raise an eyebrow at him, feeling every pair of eyes in the room turn to me to see how I'll react. "Okay, I think I'm missing the leap of logic you took there," I finally say. "That's like telling me to go to their base and shoot myself in the head because they'll never see it coming."

"Aye, I'm with Shaw there," Butler says. Good old Butler. He's had my back completely ever since everything with Ripard. "I thought it wasnae good practice to see traps, then walk straight into them anyway."

"Usually it's not," Garrus admits. "But think about it. If they're running a recruitment drive, there's going to be a lot of people there. They'll need something to separate one of us from one of them."

I mull that over. Something to separate us… "A bait?" Erash asks.

"Exactly," Garrus says, mandibles widening in a smile as people start to understand. "They'll have something there to split you from the rest of the people. Something they know we have an interest in."

And just like that, it clicks for me. "You think they'll have the Malestroms there?"

"They might," Garrus shrugs. "Or at least something related to them. Even if we can't retrieve what the bait is, Whiteguard will have shown their hand. We'll know what we're looking for, and we'll be able to work from there." As dumb as it sounds, that's a good point. Right now, we're searching for four deadly needles in a haystack. At the very least, this could make the stack a little bit smaller. Though…

"That's all well and good," I say. "But if they trigger the trap while I'm in there, it won't matter if I find anything, because I'll have been captured or killed. And even if I do escape, they'll have my face on cameras."

"So I'll send in someone with you," Garrus replies, without missing a beat. "They'll have their attention on you, which means someone else can disable the cameras, wipe their memory, and be in position to get you out when the trap's sprung. Someone like Melanis." Oh, I knew he'd fucking say that…

I hear Melanis let out a groan at that, but she nods her head anyway. She's the only person with the skillset really suited to that, after all. I don't like that fact, but there it is.

Well, at least this guarantees it's going to be an interesting mission.

"I assume you'll need me to drive the shuttle as well?" Melanis asks, sounding pissed as she glares at me. "That's beyond your skillset?"

"Hey, I can drive," I reply. "About five metres forward and twenty metres down into the ground before we explode, but it's still driving."

"So that's a 'yes', if I cut through all the bullshit," she snaps. Oh, wow. Didn't even have the decency to let it go. I can see Grundan grinning to the side of me, though, so he's obviously loving this banter. Asshole.

"You two, go and get your gear together," Garrus says, sighing. "I should probably get to the medical bay before Monteague gives me anaesthetic while I'm still sat here."

"I was hoping you might say that," the drell mutters, standing up and walking Garrus towards the medical bay as the rest of the squad disperse back to their rooms and the kitchen. Melanis gives a small hiss from next to me, shaking her head and mumbling something as she heads to her room to pick up her stuff. I'm gonna need my casual wear, so I can run up to the dorm and get that…plus whatever weapons I take with me are just gonna be taken off me on the door, but it'll look weird if I'm not carrying on Omega, so I'll grab a shitty handgun from the armoury and just take that. We've got a few Phalanx pistols knocking about.

I was planning on talking to Melanis anyway, so I suppose locking the two of us into a mission is one way of getting that done. Even if my escape and anonymity is hinging upon her. Still, she's not the type to get revenge by screwing up a mission. Her pride wouldn't let her. Plus she wouldn't be above me if she did that.

'Above me'? Wow, Garrus' little talk about turian women obviously managed to stick in my brain, despite Garm nearly kicking it out. It might not even be a thing where I'm not good enough for her, like he suggested, but it's definitely a line of enquiry of me. Sooner or later, I'm gonna work Melanis out. It'd just be easier if she wasn't so damn stubborn.

Regardless, the two have us got a trap to spring, so I should probably get my stuff together and meet her at the shuttle. Primary objective; find out what the Whiteguard bait is. Secondary objective; find out what the hell is up with Melanis.

I think I know which one is most likely to be completed.

##########

"So..." I say, deciding to finally break the five minutes frosty silence Melanis and I have been sitting in as she pilots the cruiser. "That was some nice banter we had going back in the base. I liked the part where you got pissed off for no reason." After our encounter in her room, I feel…I dunno. Emboldened. I mean, we both know something happened, there's not much point skirting around it at this point.

The female turian lets out a low growl, but keeps her eyes on the road. "Do you _really_ want to do this now, Ian?"

"Well, you can't throttle me if you want to keep this thing in the air, so now seems as good a time as any," I reply.

"I can drive just fine with one hand," she mutters back.

"Alright, fine," I say, before giving her a wink. "Stops you from biting me though."

Melanis growls again, louder this time, then in a lightning fast move brings her head around and snaps her jaws down hard next to my head, before putting her eyes back on the road. "Wrong again."

Wow. I didn't realise she could reach that far. And I'm lucky she didn't bite me like that when we were in her room. "Touché. Though if you do it then shout at me to get out again, well..." I glance out the cruiser window at the drop below. "I ain't gonna be able to oblige you."

"Then don't make me bite you again," Mel says, her voice dangerously quiet.

"Well, considering I don't know what prompted it the first time, that'd be a struggle," I point out.

"So why don't you just play it safe and stay quiet?"

"See, that depends on your motivations," I reply, unabated. She's actually talking about it, so maybe I'm getting somewhere here. "What was it you said at that Eclipse party we went to? Turians bite as a form of...affection, wasn't it?"

"There's more than one way for a turian to bite."

"So which one was yours?"

There's a long pause from Melanis before she replies, her eyes still ahead. "Did that feel affectionate to you?"

"I've never had a turian bite me before, so I dunno," I shrug.

"Why are you so curious to find out, anyway?" Melanis asks. Huh…I could probably weave some lie about my inquisitive nature, but I think the kiss wasn't exactly ambiguous. May as well just be straight up with her.

"Well," I say, scratching my neck, which I have an annoying habit of doing when I'm nervous. "I don't know how much you know about human affection, but we don't really have that many different meanings for a kiss. So..."

Melanis doesn't turn and claw my face off, thankfully, but she does let out another growl as she continues driving. The pause, however, just lets me realise that she changed the subject on me before.

"So, you didn't answer my question about what kind of bite it was."

"You're right, I didn't."

"Come on, Mel," I smile. "Embarrassed about something?"

"No, I just want to focus on this mission," she says, giving me a sidelong glance. "Especially since it'll probably involve saving your ass again."

"Well, at least that's specifically your role here this time," I say, pausing as I think about what she asked me about how the bite felt. "Those nibbles seemed affectionate, by the way. Just saying."

"Thin ice, Ian. Almost nonexistent, in fact."

"Is the ice a metaphor for how close I am to the truth?"

"More like how close you are to getting yourself thrown out of this car."

"Damn, I do love a bit of imagery."

Melanis goes silent again, making me shake my head and chuckle as I look at her. "I'm gonna work you out someday, Mel."

"Oh really?" she replies sarcastically. "Think your _amazing_ detective skills are up to it?"

"Just got to get into a big argument with you for your true colours to show, so yeah, sure," I say.

"So your tactic is to goad me into an argument?"

"It's worked pretty well so far," I point out.

"And now that you've told me your little plan?"

"It doesn't matter. You'll argue with me regardless because you love it too much."

"Only because you make it too easy."

"Any excuse to be around me."

Silence descends upon us once again, though thankfully it's just as we reach the parking area for the Whiteguard base, so there's no awkward silence to endure as Melanis touches us down. The base is surprisingly extravagant, though that might just be because of this 'recruitment drive'. White banners put up around its boxy shape, a couple of human guards patrolling the car park, two batarians on the door who're tall even for the standard of their species, and a huge, glowing white shield displayed proudly above the doors. "I don't even understand how these guys can afford this stuff," I say, as Melanis pops the doors and we clamber out. "They only showed up a couple of months back. Considering how expensive Maelstroms are, I expected everyone to just be living out of boxes around here."

"Maybe you do something useful when you're in there and find out, then?" Melanis asks rhetorically, slapping me on the back unnecessarily hard. "I'm going to look for a way to slip in. You do what you do best and spring that trap. It shouldn't be hard for you."

"Anything to get you off my back for a bit," I reply, making Melanis growl as she strides off down the street parallel to the base, and I move towards the front door, hearing the sounds and seeing the lights from inside the base as I'm stopped by one of the guards. This feels so weird, walking in with my t-shirt and jeans, face uncovered…Melanis better get her side of the mission right. Then again, I can't remember an occasion where she hasn't.

"You're going to need to hand over your weapon, sir," the batarian says, holding out a hand for my holster and pistol.

"Alright," I nod, looking up at the helmeted guards as I start loosening the holster. "Though the way the streets are today, I ain't exactly comfortable with this."

"Hey, you sign up with us, and you'll have protection way better than that shitty handgun," his friend behind him says, chuckling. "How much did that thing cost? Fifty credits?"

"Even less," I say, finding some dark humour in the fact we obtained this weapon from a dead merc, most likely. "Absolute murder finding a cheap seller, though," I add, unable to help the joke as I hand over the holster and gun. I need a pair of sunglasses for times like these.

"Well, we'll fit you out with some quality gear," the batarian I gave my weapon to says, standing to the side to let me through. "Take a look around at the literature, talk to some current mercs, and see if you're cut out for the job. If you're ready, talk to the guy at the recruiting desk and sign yourself up."

"Will do," I say, smiling politely and making a mental note to avoid the recruiting desk. "Thanks for the help, guys."

"You're welcome," both batarians say, as I walk into the lobby of the base where the recruitment drive is taking place. In keeping with the colour scheme, the floor's white tiling, with grey metallic wall panels running around the length of the large room, at least thirty metres both ways.

There's all kinds of people of different gender and species walking around and chatting to various mercs scattered around the place, presumably to help persuade potential candidates along with the stacks of leaflets and other literature about '_is mercenary work right for you?' _and _'do you have what it takes to be a Whiteguard leader?' _scattered about.

There's a desk with a rapidly growing queue on the left hand side of the room, signposted restrooms leading down a corridor on the right hand wall, and finally, a staircase at the very back leading to 'executive offices', and an assault rifle wielding turian guarding it.

I'm honestly surprised about the atmosphere in here. It's actually quite nice. Polite people on the door, well organised, specific materials prepared to persuade people, real mercenaries deployed into the lobby to give testimonials about how great throwing your life away to crime and exploitation can be. It's a far cry from the freelancer recruiting place in Mass Effect 2, anyway.

Still, I'm not here to mingle. The 'executive offices' sign is obviously where I need to be going, even if the turian guard didn't help give it away. Looks like Garrus was right after all; Shurta's office is probably the lure. Which should give me a good few minutes to poke around and gather some leads before they stop me. All I need to do is get past that guard, and if this really is a trap, that shouldn't be hard.

With that in mind, I cross the room and idle up to the turian, giving him a smile as I lean on the wall next to him. "You one of the people I should talk to about becoming a merc?" I ask.

"Guard duty," the turian says, shaking his head. "The other ones standing around are the people you're looking for."

"Yeah, but they've all got people already," I say, pointing to the merc ambassadors who're all flocked with potential recruits. "Plus they'll have been chosen to stay on message. I'd rather get an endorsement from someone who's not obligated to tell me how awesome mercenary work is."

"Honestly?" the guard says, turning his head to look at me, though his helmet hides any expression. "Whiteguard was the best move I ever made. Couldn't find any kind of good career until I found this group. I tried smuggling for some small time companies a few years back, that didn't work out."

"Oh?" I say. "Where abouts were you smuggling?"

"On the Citadel," he replies. Oh, man, in that case Garrus and I were probably the reason things 'didn't work out'. "Some C-Sec detectives found out what we were doing, so we had to stop."

"That's a damned shame," I shrug apologetically.

"Tell me about it," the turian nods, with a small growl. "Then I tried freelancing for the big merc groups, but they just treat you like s'kak, so there's no point. Whiteguard took me on, gave me a good wage, and some nice weapons." He rolls his shoulders, moving his assault rifle for emphasis.

"Vindicator," I say, taking note of the weapon. Nice…most merc groups usually supply standard Avengers. Even more proof Whiteguard have a lot of cash coming in from somewhere. "That's pretty nice. Though you mustn't get much chance to use it, guarding a staircase and all."

"One night only," the guard says. "Whiteguard's been handling, well, sensitive things recently. And seeing as Shurta's office is in this base…" Okay, this is definitely a trap. They wouldn't post someone to guard anything 'highly sensitive' if he was willing to gossip it to some random recruit. The turian's here as part of the bait.

"Oh, yeah, of course," I reply, nodding enthusiastically. Okay, now to work out how to get past him…and I spy a table of canapés over next to the entrance. Generally speaking, food is a good distraction. "Hey-"

I'm about to point him in the direction of the snacks, when my stomach suddenly lurches, making me gasp and hold onto the wall to keep my balance. Not now…another lurch causes my whole body to heave, as I look around frantically for the restroom sign. "You alright?" the guard asks, sounding genuinely concerned as he rests a hand on my back.

"Yeah," I gasp, pushing off the wall, already seeing an orange tint to my vision as I try to stand up straight. "Just…something I ate…" With that, I stagger off towards the restrooms, trying to move as fast as I can without just collapsing in the middle of the room. There's a distinct taste of bile in my mouth as I move through the door leading to the corridor where the restrooms are, almost doubled over as I enter the men's and crash into a cubicle, barely having the state of mind to lock the cubicle door behind me before I stick my head over the bowl and just let it happen.

It's standard, of course. Having these visions for almost four years makes you get used to it a little bit, whether you like it or not, though I'm never really going to adapt to the horrific feeling of throwing up and sitting with my back against the cubicle wall, gasping in breath and trying to recover. Still no progress on whatever word or letter is being spoken at the end of the vision. No progress other than the fact this is getting worse and worse over time.

At least it was manageable when they happened when I was asleep, but waking visions are going to become a real problem, sooner or later. I almost threw up on that guard, and that would've been it. Mission over. Sighing, I manage to get back up to my feet, flushing the toilet and checking my clothes. No sick on them, so that's good. I guess I can get back to it.

I walk over to the sink, sticking my hands into the basin and running the water under them, checking my reflection in the mirror. And see my eyes staring back at me, my pupils looking like they're about to split in two. I blink in shock, taking a step back…and they're back to normal as I double check my reflection. I don't even notice the water stop splashing into the basin as I look at my face, checking for any abnormalities, and finding nothing. What the hell was that?

I stare at my reflection for another ten seconds, but nothing changes, even after blinking again. Normal, blue eyes. "I'm going crazy," I mutter, splashing water up on my face and shaking my head around to liven myself up, before moving out of the restroom and back into the lobby.

A glance over at the stairs shows the turian guard no longer there, seeming to have disappeared into thin air as I glance around. Well, seeing as I was so inquisitive about what was upstairs, he's probably moved out of the way so I can get caught upstairs. Makes my job easier, I guess.

No-one's paying any real attention to the stairs, so I stride confidently up them until I'm out of the line of sight of people below, staircase levelling out in a load of cubicle work spaces, and one large office space with a door at the back. Looking around to see if there's any guards, and finding none, I quickly jog over to it and check the name plaque. Rhi'hesh Shurta. Well, this is the place. No doubt the turian guard told them I'm likely to be up here, so that gives me a few minutes to do some digging, then just pray Melanis holds up her side of the mission.

The door's an easy hack, letting me stroll in and quickly sit behind his desk, door sliding shut as I fire up the terminal and I look around the room. The usual bunch of datapads, filing cabinets, holographic Rubik's cube on the ridiculously deep desk, but still nowhere near big enough to conceal four Maelstrom bombs. Well, I guess that's them out.

Thankfully, boot-up times for computers in 2185 are tiny, and there's no password protection, letting me move to his files and emails straight away. There's a brief mail confirming the arrival and collection of the Maelstroms, but nothing on where they've been taken, just that they're 'awaiting positioning at the target'. Shit. Whiteguard obviously aren't holding onto the bombs, then, they're actually going for something. And if those things go off, our chances of staying anonymous go with them. Bloody perfect.

There's also some accounting details in his files, which I almost skim past but then scroll back to, curiosity about their finances causing me to click on the balance sheet. They've only been around a couple of months as a big organisation…and at the start of the year, Whiteguard and Shurta had almost no money at all. Then, almost two and a half months ago, they go from having ten thousand credits to nigh on ten million. Shurta's even put a note saying 'from our benefactor' next to the huge deposit in their account.

A benefactor on Omega, wanting to stick their fingers in yet another criminal pie. Well, if that doesn't scream Umbra, I don't know what does. Peel away one layer, and there's another one right underneath it. I quickly minimise that, searching through for anything else about this mysterious 'target', or the location of the bombs, but find nothing.

Alright, so, now we know there's some kind of target at least. And that Umbra's probably involved. I look down at the desk, throwing open the drawers on it. Top one's empty, not much more luck for the second…but in the very bottom one, a blueprint container rolls to the front. I quickly lean down and pick it up, checking for any kind of identification on it. Nothing. But considering the email that talks about the target…this could be it.

With that thought, I pop the lid off, and look inside, only noticing the bit of string attached to the lid and the pin of a flash grenade inside a second too late. I manage to toss the container away, hit the deck, close my eyes and stick two fingers in my ears before it goes off, but the concussive pulse and flash temporary blind me and make me feel sick as I stay curled up, willing the noise and pain in my eyes to go away. That won't have been the most powerful grenade available, so people downstairs aren't alerted, but it stings like a bitch as I faintly hear the sound of the office door opening, before a pair of strong hands drag me to my feet.

I blink rapidly, shaking my head to try and clear the noise, eventually managing to see a batarian in business attire standing in front of me, clutching a blueprint roll smugly and saying something. The ringing in my ears is reaching manageable levels, though it's still persistent. "I can't hear you," I say, barely hearing myself talk.

The batarian takes a few steps closer, brandishing the blueprint roll. "How about now? Were you looking for this?" Finally managing to adjust to the noise and light level, at least enough for the pain to be bearable, I nod my head and make the batarian, presumably Shurta, laugh. My right arm's being held by a turian, and my left a human, obviously the guards he took to make sure I was down. Asides from the flash grenade, I guess everything's going to plan. Now it's down to Mel.

"Flash grenade inside something important looking," I gasp, still recovering. "Smart."

"I didn't think we could top Garm hiding inside a room for you," Shurta shrugs. "But we tried, and you walked right into it. Again." Alright, so Whiteguard and Harga have more than just casual links, seeing as he managed to pass a warning along to them. For a krogan, Harga seems pretty smart, actually. So we need to go after him, and this elusive blueprint roll. "Though I think we'll do better than Garm at keeping hold of you, whichever one of Archangel's squad you are."

"Archangel?" I ask innocently, deciding to just play for time to recover, and let Melanis get into some kind of position if she isn't already. "Nope. Don't know the guy."

"Of course you don't," Shurta nods, chuckling. "Electrodes tend to be good at jumpstarting people's memories, though." He looks over to both the guards. "Prep him for interrogation. _Discretely._ For something we just made up, the recruitment drive is going well, and I don't want to ruin that."

"Yes, sir," the human says enthusiastically, yanking on my arm. I'm feeling too weak to put up any resistance, as Shurta chuckles and walks back down the corridor, flipping the blueprint roll in his hand as he goes, and descends back down the stairs into the lobby. The human, turian and I go straight on, however, continuing towards an elevator in the back of the office complex. Presumably one that leads down to whatever 'interrogation room' they have around here.

We never reach it. Once Shurta's out of sight, which is about ten metres from the elevator, the turian holding my arm suddenly lets go, grabs the human's head before he can do anything, and with a quick twist snaps his neck, making him fall lifelessly to the floor. I try to get some life back by shaking my limbs, as Melanis lifts off her Whiteguard helmet and glares at me.

"Very resourceful," I say, managing a smile as she drags the corpse behind an office cubicle. One worker's in for a nasty surprise later. "I'm assuming-"

"I wiped the cameras of any trace of us being here," Melanis says quickly. "Incapacitated a turian guard outside, took their armour and walked in the front door. You walked past me when you were going to the bathroom. Mission nerves?"

Oh, bollocks, she saw that. The visions are _definitely _something I can't bring up. "When you gotta go, you gotta go," I say, smirking at the look on her face. My eyes and ears are still agony, but I'm not gonna show her that. "We should probably get out before Shurta comes to see why I'm not ready for interrogation, then?"

"Yeah, probably," Melanis nods, putting her helmet back on and practically grabbing me by the collar, yanking me back towards the stairs down into the lobby. The two of us descend cautiously, checking for Shurta…but there's no sign of him in the lobby, letting us speed up and stride towards the exit. "Was getting caught worth it?"

"We have two leads instead of zero, so yeah, I'd say so," I nod, talking under my breath. No-one even bats an eyelid as we walk past, though they don't have any reason too, despite me looking pretty dishevelled from the flash grenade, and within a few seconds we're back out into Omega. Now to get the cruiser-

"Sir!" one of the batarians at the door calls out, making me slowly turn and ball my hands into fists. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Shurta probably told them to look out for someone with a red t-shirt and jeans.

"Yeah?" I ask, stepping forward. I can push him into his friend to gain the advantage, plus Melanis could probably take the two of them by herself, so that helps.

"You forgot your gun," he says, smiling as he hands over the holster and Phalanx. "You, uh, getting a more in-depth induction with him?" He looks over at Melanis, smirking. Ah, of course…she's in a male turian's armour, after all. I drop my fists, smiling back as I shake my head.

"He's hard to read, so I don't know," I say, nodding in thanks as I take the weapon. "You guys have a good night, now." With that, I walk back to Melanis and we move off towards the vehicle, though I can hear her growl growing louder and louder as we hop in and she takes off immediately. I look back as we accelerate away, but no-one comes running out of the building, no alarms sound up, and no-one opens fire on the cruiser. Man, Shurta is _not _gonna be happy when he realises what happened. "Asides from the flashbang, that was perfect," I say happily, turning to look at Melanis.

"Perfect?" she growls. "Shurta saw your face!"

"They don't have photographic evidence of it," I say. "Unless Rembrandt is his sketch artist, I really don't think we have much to worry about. Especially in a galaxy this large. And on a place with no citizen register. At best, he'll get a generic picture that could be just about anyone. He only got to look at me for about half a minute, plus I had my head down and was squinting. If we start seeing posters with a scarily accurate drawing of my face on, I'll give you my life savings, alright?"

"And you were _stupid _enough to detonate a flash grenade in your own face," she continues, shaking her head and ignoring my defence as she continues driving. "I don't know if you're clumsy or just an idiot."

"Oh shit, sorry, my x-ray vision was off today," I shoot back, not injecting any humour in my tone. I've tried joking around with her, but even after a mission where we succeeded to the letter, she's still finding fault, and I'm getting really, really sick of it. "Can you not just say good job and leave it at that?"

"It wasn't a good job," she replies. "Stop kidding yourself." Right, that's it. I'm sick of this whole angry, bitch thing she's doing, and there's only one way to deal with it. A way I'm probably going to regret, but I'm not taking this shit any longer.

"When we get back to base, get your sparring gear," I snap, conscious that I'm not in top condition at the moment but not really caring. Whatever this is with us, I get the feeling kicking the crap out of each other is gonna help with it. Melanis seems surprised at the request, turning her head to look at me.

"What?"

"You heard me," I reply, tone and expression deadly serious. "Fuck waiting for the bombs. I'm kicking your ass. Tonight."

"You just got beaten up by a krogan, and flashbanged," she retorts. "It's not fair on you."

"Then you'll have the advantage. Didn't think you'd mind that," I say. "I'll take some painkillers. But if you want to concede now, feel free."

The turian's eyes meet mine, and there's a predatory flash in them as she does. "You said I didn't have to wear tips on my talons?" Her voice is dangerously low as she asks that.

"Nope. As long as you don't expect any pulled punches from me," I reply, in the exact same voice. "We can do it in public or private, I don't care, but we're fighting tonight."

"Then I'd hate to deny you the opportunity," Melanis says, confident smile forming on the edges of her mandibles as she turns to look back in the road, and I sit back in my seat, breathing heavily from adrenaline.

No tiebreakers here. She's going down.

**A/N: Oh yes. The sparring match everyone's seemed rather enthusiastic for is coming, so look forward to that next chapter.**

**And now, a couple of leads for the team. A couple of vague leads, admittedly, but it's something. Umbra involvement, links with Harga, and of course, the mysterious target blueprint. Tracking everything down means a hell of a lot of drama's about to happen for Archangel and the squad…**

**So, of course, thanks for sticking with the story, reading, reviewing, alerting, favouriting (which apparently isn't a word), and being great. As ever, it's much appreciated. **

**See you next time! **


	51. Ian vs The Spar

Chapter 51

Sparring match - Feeder: Call Out

The rest – Poets of the Fall: Heal My Wounds

Melanis and I don't hang around as soon as we get back into the base. We're both out of the shuttle in seconds, not even looking at each other as she heads towards her room and I move up the stairs to the dorm. There's some shouts from the living room asking about how the mission went, and I'm surprised to see Sensat there, mingling with the group with a big smile on her face, but I quickly reassure them that the mission went fine and that Melanis and I have some 'emergency training' scheduled.

Ghost runs at me happily as I enter the room, and I can't help but smile as I reach down and pet him, his tongue lolling out as he repeatedly butts my arms with his head until I give him a quick hug. "I gotta go kick Melanis' ass, Ghost," I explain, as he pants and rubs up against me again. "Go downstairs and play with the others, alright? Go on." The varren lets out a small whine, but turns and plods off down the stairs anyway, and I hear him yelp happily as Sensat calls his name.

I open the clothing cupboard, pulling out a vest and some gym shorts, along with a capsule of painkillers originally designed to fit onto an armour set. I take off my t-shirt top, frowning as I see the new bruises Garm gave me, but I can fight through a few aches and pains to put Melanis in her place. I quickly take the capsules, then yank on the vest and shorts before moving back downstairs towards the garage.

It only takes a few minutes to get down to the designated sparring area down there, which is just a wide area near one of the shutters with a fifteen metre square mat laid out, but I'm surprised to see Melanis down there already as I walk in. She must be as eager as I am.

"Nice to see you didn't back out on me," I say, rolling my shoulders as I quickly look Melanis up and down. She's wearing practically the same gear as me, shorts and a vest, though hers is cut off around the lower waist area. Still, it's reassuring to see I chose the same combat garb as her. No-one's at any advantage because of clothing, at least.

"Considering everything, I should be saying that to you," Melanis replies cooly, checking her exposed talons. They're _sharp. _Like, much more than I remember them being from previous times seeing them. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she'd sharpened them before the match.

"Believe it or not, hand to hand is one of my stronger areas," I reply, trying to ignore her talons. "I've had Garrus teaching me for years. And since we've never fought before, I'm at least allowed to be cautiously optimistic." As good as I know Melanis is, hand to hand is something I'm pretty confident in. Even if I don't win, I think she's going to have a much harder time taking me down than she's anticipating.

"Well, Garrus isn't the only former hand to hand specialist on this team," the female turian says.

Ah. Shit. That's something of a spanner in the works. "Good," I say, not showing any kind of trepidation as I face her down. If nothing else, the sparring could stop her being as much of a bitch, which is worth taking a few hits for. "I did want a bit of a challenge, after all." It's true. I don't want this to be easy. If she really pushed me away because I'm not worthy of her, I'd like to prove the opposite.

Melanis shoots me a fierce grin. "Then I just hope you didn't ask for more than you can handle. Now are we just gonna talk this whole time, or can I start kicking your ass?"

I grin back, then quickly remember something I needed to get out of the way before we start. "Let's just get the ground rules down. You can't hit me in the bollocks, or pull my hair," I explain, then stop to consider. That's the cheap shots out of the way, so... "I think that's about it."

"I thought you wanted this fight to be fun."

"I don't see what's fun about you winning by walking up and kicking me in the balls."

"Maybe not for you," Melanis grins. "But I would certainly be having fun."

"I've no doubt," I say, rolling my eyes. "But I'm sure you've got a million other ways to have me squirming on the ground in pain, so you can afford to drop one of them."

Melanis lets out an exaggerated sigh, but nods anyway. "Fine. Now are you finally ready?"

I nod back, bouncing on the balls of my feet to get ready. "I'm good. First to get a submission wins." I take a deep breath, facing her down and throwing my arms wide in a 'come at me bro' pose. Here goes nothing. "Ladies first."

"And they say chivalry is dead," Melanis mutters, before suddenly charging forwards, closing the gap between us in less than a second and throwing a punch at my head. I get my left forearm in the way, using it to deflect the blow before taking a cautious jab myself, just to test the waters and her reaction speed. Unsurprisingly, Melanis ducks under it with ease by bending her knees, then uses that to spring up and try to launch an uppercut at me. She's not the only one with quick reactions, though, and I spring back and out of the way, creating a gap between us again as we cautiously circle each other.

It's begun.

I let Melanis step in and throw a hook, flinching out of the way, but she pulls it short before my dodge becomes necessary, her mandibles widening in a smile. We're both measuring each other up, at the moment. Seeing instinctive reactions to attacks, preferred techniques, combat styles. The first minutes of a fight like this are an intricate dance. The ones after that tend to be one person getting their head kicked in.

I take my turn to analyse Melanis, stepping in towards her, pivoting on my left toes and launching my right leg in a roundhouse I fully expect to miss. True enough, Melanis angles her head back the perfect angle to avoid the kick, then launches her counter-attack while I'm off balance. I barely manage to deflect a straight punch aimed right at my face, but that gives me enough time to regain my balance and back roll away from the haymaker she tries afterwards.

Alright, she's good. Most people would overreact in the roundhouse dodge, but she kept cool and took the opportunity to strike back. She's quick, too, so any big, slow attacks are out. From my backwards roll in relation to my haymaker, she'll have learned the exact same thing about me. Agility is probably my greatest strength. Which means I'm gonna be the target of grabs and pins.

"Not bad," Melanis says, her tone subtly mocking me as she looks as confident as ever. "You know how to kick. That's better than I expected."

"Yep," I say, looking for the slightest break in her guard I can exploit. "You weren't expecting me to go down with the first punch, were you?"

"Yes, but I'm glad you didn't," she says, stretching her mandibles in a grin. "You'll fall harder when you're more confident." With that, she dives in again, throwing a punch towards my stomach. I put both hands out to block it…just as the fist stops short at the last second, leaving me completely open for her other fist to clock me across the face. My head rolls to the side from the punch as I gasp in pain, but I keep my composure, holding my ground and grabbing her arm when she tries the same punch again, letting me knee her in the side.

I can't help a small grin as she lets out her own gasp of pain before she shoves me away with her free hand, then suddenly launches a roundhouse kick herself. I don't fancy my chances with a precision dodge, though, so I crouch down as her foot whistles through where my head was half a second ago, then try a pouncing tackle to grab her around the waist. Mel sidesteps, presumably hoping I'll faceplant, but I manage to stick my hands out and turn it into a forward roll, turning on its completion and looking at her again.

The time for witty comments at the other's expense has clearly passed, though, as Melanis' second attack comes straight away. A hook I quickly duck under, her straight going into my waiting right hand, leaving her nice and open for my left to slam into her left mandible, then swing back around and onto her cheek. The gloves help protect my hands from damage, although it still hurts, but I keep going as her knee buckles, making the next punch miss.

The female turian growls, placing both hands on the floor and swinging her leg around in a trip attempt which I hop over, but it buys her enough time to extricate herself from her position and straighten up again. There's a glint in her eyes that suggests she's enjoying this, and honestly, I'm feeling the same. There's something great about working out frustrations by hitting the source of them.

This time, I'm the aggressor, charging at Melanis and throwing caution to the wind by trying a two footed drop kick. She clearly wasn't expecting it, and although she doesn't get both feet, she gets my lower one as she ducks a tad too late, knocking her to the ground as I land on my back. We're both scrambling up straight away, Melanis growling in anger as she counters by making a quick leap forward and smashing her elbow into my face. I grunt in pain, tasting blood as I grab her arm, yank it towards me and ram my own elbow down towards her head. She ducks again, but that just causes me to hit a spot behind her fringe which I know is sensitive for turian, making her physically yell and flinch.

I let go straight away, backing up and raising my hands apologetically. Against turians, that's a cheap shot. "Sorry Mel," I say, dabbing my lip with a finger where it's bleeding. "Wasn't expecting you to move like that." The female turian shakes her head, looking furious as she snarls at me. Ah. I guess the 'accident' excuse isn't going to fly.

True enough, Melanis takes two quick steps forward and swings, her talons outstretched. I lean back enough to dodge a punch, but the extra length from her talons cause them to rake across my cheek, and I gasp out as I pull back and put a hand on my face. Blood. Not much, but it's there.

Okay. I didn't want to get rough, but maybe punching her in that sensitive spot wasn't a bad idea after all.

She's lost discipline now, trying to claw upwards on my torso, apparently looking to disembowel me now. The attack is slow, though, letting me spin around her and ram the back of my hand onto the sensitive spot again. Melanis whirls around, snarling and spreading her talons wide so I can see the tips. "You started it," I say, panting.

She shakes her head, spinning on her foot and trying a back kick at me. I'm tantalisingly out of reach, though, and I take that moment to charge and dive at her, wrapping my arms around her thin waist and throwing her to the ground, just about managing to land on top of her and try to pin her arms down. Melanis is kicking immediately, lifting her head up before I can react and making her forehead hit my nose, the pain making me rear back and tears instinctively cloud my vision as she works one hand free and drags her talons down my back, hard.

I yell out as she manages to push me off her, quickly jabbing at her stomach as she tries to get up, and I manage to knock her back down from doing that. I quickly scramble to my feet…but just as I'm getting there, Melanis lashes out with a talon, getting in a serious slash across my chest with her talons. I look down to see three tears in my vest, cuts showing beneath them. If I'd been closer, that could've been one hell of a lot worse. Screw Queensbury rules, I'm just winning this now.

Back on my feet, I try to kick Mel while she's getting up. It connects with her side, and while she still manages to get up, she's somewhat unbalanced. I swing around for the trip…

And she grabs my foot while it's in midair, pulling me towards her. I realise I'm gonna get thrown, so I quickly punch her while momentum's on my side, making Melanis drop my foot and giving me some space to back up.

Once again, we're facing each other from opposite sides of the ring, but we're both a lot worse off than the last time this happened. I'm sporting cuts along my chest, cheek and lip, while Melanis is panting while a small bit of blue blood shows from underneath a mandible.

She's one hell of a fighter. At first she underestimated me, but now she's realised I'm a decent opponent, she's on form. But instead of that making me angry, I'm feeling some kind of respect for that. Sure, I'm still pissed, annoyed at her pushing me out of her room, annoyed at apparently not being good enough for her, but bizarrely violence is a pretty effective medium for me to prove my point about being good enough for her.

Melanis doesn't give me much time to consider the undertones behind this entire fight, though, charging and driving her fist into my stomach. As I double over, she gets a blow on my face, then my chest, then another to the stomach in a seemingly unstoppable combo. I just manage to grab her arm, heaving in breath as I wrench it backwards, spinning it around and holding her in an arm lock. At least, I manage a lock for about two seconds before she flips me over her shoulder. My arms are flailing as I drop, but I somehow manage to wrap my hands around her neck as I hit the ground, forcing Melanis to her knees before my hands slip off when I make impact.

The breath I just took is knocked out of my lungs as I roll and try to push Melanis over, but she gets an extraordinarily good punch in on my right side, causing me to gasp and reel away. Fuck, that's gonna be a _huge _bruise…I swing in anger, a clumsy blow that lets Melanis grab my arm and pull us close again.

We're face to face, both growling and panting as I feel her talons dig into my arm, the two of us struggling against each other as I meet her eyes, smelling and feeling the same things I did back in her room.

Maybe if I kiss her, this'll all just stop. As frustrated as I'm feeling at her being a bitch…I still like her. It'd be so easy to just close the gap…

But that didn't work last time because I'm not good enough for her. I need to prove myself. And the only way to do that is to win this fight.

So I headbutt her.

My forehead smashes into her flat nose, but I don't get the angle at all right, so I'm just as dazed as she is as we both stagger back. Okay, I gotta finish her while I can…so I swing, my own momentum making me fall over. Melanis looks at me on the floor, steps forward to punch me while I'm down, then just falls over herself and lands on top of me, as I stick out my hands to catch her forearms until she's laid there, her head around my chest level.

Melanis is panting for breath as she lies on top of me, my hands just about keeping her steady as she looks down at me. "So is this you giving up?" she asks breathlessly.

"Nope," I say, gasping for breath. My head is still killing me from that headbutt, but at least it took her down as well as myself. "I'm just making a tactical recovery."

"So you're too tired to fight," Melanis points out. "I think that means I win."

"Yeah, because you're a real bundle of energy yourself," I reply sarcastically.

"I'm also on top," she says.

With a sudden heave of effort, I lift my legs and push her to the side, using the momentum to roll both our bodies until I'm laid out on top of her, hands still on her arms. Melanis, surprisingly, doesn't fight it. "Clearly."

"Alright...I'll give you that one," she says, sounding reluctant. But, more importantly, sounding somewhat friendly about it. The stories about sparring being good for blowing off steam are obviously true, because I'm feeling a lot less angry myself. "Doesn't mean you win, though."

I manage a grin at that. "But it doesn't mean I lose either. Go on, admit it. You're surprised. Impressed, even."

Melanis gives her own toothy grin back, stretching her mandibles. "I might admit to surprise, but I'm not sure about impressed. Like I said, you didn't win."

"Don't pretend you weren't expecting to walk all over me," I say, winking. "Nice to see I'm good at exceeding women's expectations, though."

"Bite me, Ian Shaw," Melanis says, her tone exasperated. I'm about to try some witty retort, when what she said makes me think.

'Bite me'. I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. But I really really want to. And she's already bitten me once, so I can at least claim revenge if it comes down to that. Assuming I'm still alive to plead it.

"Only because you insist," I say, quickly leaning down before I can fully think through what I'm doing, and giving the leathery skin on the side of her neck a quick nip. Melanis' eyes light up in shock...but the talons I was expecting to feel sink into my chest never come. She stares up at me, and the hostility I saw in her eyes after I kissed her just isn't there. Before we can lock eyes for more than a few seconds though, she uses the moment to flip us back over so I'm laid underneath her.

"Back on top."

"Suits me," I say, feeling incredibly emboldened. She didn't voice approval. But she didn't voice disapproval either. This is unbelievable. Sparring for turians really is like smooth jazz and wine for humans.

"So you're saying I win?" Melanis grins. Huh...this might just be a ploy on her part so I admit defeat. But I'm alright with that, honestly.

"No," I grin back. "I'm just saying I'm fine with this arrangement."

"Fine with losing, you mean? Because it's been much longer than the three seconds you need in wrestling."

"Good thing we aren't wrestling then," I say teasingly. "You need me to admit defeat."

"I'm sure I can think of something to make you admit it."

"Hey, I'd love to hear suggestions."

Melanis suddenly leans down, putting her mouth right next to my ear and bringing our bodies closer together. Christ, if this is just her trying to win, she is one manipulative turian. If it's not...sparring could be the best decision I've ever made. "I could tell you what kind of bite I gave you back in my room." Yep, best decision ever.

"Well, I am dying to know," I say, trying to play it smooth as I cautiously put my hands on her lower back. When she doesn't react badly, I slowly slide them down to her hips. Again, no bad reaction. "Though I could do with a reminder of what that bite was like..." I'm pushing my luck here. I really am.

Melanis quickly flicks her tongue across my neck, the long, thin thing sliding over the bite mark she gave me earlier. "Did I win the match?"

Godammit. She'd better not be playing me. But the way she's doing this suggests there's _definitely _something more. "I'll extend my offer to a maybe as a show of goodwill, but you need to uphold your side of the bargain for the rest..." I say, trailing off at the end with a smile.

Melanis lets out a light growl. One that could arguably be mistaken as a purr. "Are you sure you want to risk a reminder?"

"You're really gonna have to point out the risk, cos I'm not seeing any downside right now."

"For all you know, the first one might have been hostile."

"I'll take my chances," I say, as she lowers her mouth past my ear, growling again-

"That's an interesting fighting move," a familiar dry, drell voice says, sounding amused as Melanis' head snaps up and she quickly shoves me down to get off me, previously happy growl turning into one of frustration as she glares at Monteague, then at me. Are you serious? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? "The others said I might find you two down here. I just thought you'd want to know Garrus' bone weave surgery went well, and he'll be fine after some rest tonight."

"Thanks, Monteague," Melanis says, not even looking back at me as she brushes past him and towards the stairs leading out of the basement. "I appreciate the good news." And with that, she's gone before I can think of anything to call out to her. Like it never even happened. Monteague's still smiling away as I turn my eyes onto him, slowly and deliberately climbing to my feet and shooting daggers at him with my eyes.

"You _bastard,_" I say. "Do you know what you just did? Is cockblocking a thing in drell culture?"

"Oh, I didn't realise you were trying to court her just there," Monteague says, sounding even more amused now I'm having a go at him. "I assumed she had you pinned and you were in need of some assistance."

I shake my head in disbelief at him. "How can you be that clueless?"

"You tell me," he replies sarcastically. "You're the expert at that."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Are you referring to that joke I'm not in on?"

"Exactly," he sighs, turning around and walking back up the stairs as I try to work out what he's talking about. "Come on. You should get patched up for those scratches, and Garrus said he wanted to know how that went with you and Melanis. Though considering the two of you were fighting as soon as you got back, I'm assuming not well?"

"Oh, no, the mission was fine," I say, jogging to catch up with him as we ascend the stairs. Now the fight and adrenaline are through, those scratches are actually stinging quite a lot. "That was just some personal stuff."

"Ah," Monteague says knowingly. "So you were just, what's the human phrase…trying to get in her pants?"

I roll my eyes at the drell's smile, and he lets out a dry chuckle as we move back into the living room. I never knew a drell would be such a good troll, but here we are… "There's a little more to it than that," I say. I do really like Melanis as a person, after all. At least when she's not being like this. And considering how candid I've been recently, I'm pretty sure she must know I like her. She's just the one flitting between yes and no. Regardless, I need to get off this subject with Monteague, and seeing Sensat again reminds me of something. "How's Vortash?"

"He's up from his surgery," Monteague says, shaking his head. "But I need to keep him in his bed for observation for at least another couple of days. He's demanding to see Sensat every ten seconds, though. Woke up talking about Amarantha while he was still groggy, then he started asking if she was alright from what she did in Afterlife."

That's a good point, actually. "Is she?"

"Sensat doesn't even remember going there," the drell explains. "Given her medical history, that krogan you thought triggered her seems a more than plausible explanation. Or she was programmed to attack upon seeing Aria. Regardless, I'd recommend we keep her out of Afterlife for the foreseeable future."

"Agreed," I nod, and the two of us stop just before the door of the med bay. Monteague's a professional psychologist, so I'd actually quite like to get his read on Vortash. "I dunno how much attention you've been paying to Vortash, but do you think he's okay?" I ask.

The drell cocks an eye ridge. "How so?"

"Well, I appreciate everything he's done for Sensat…but it's becoming painfully obvious he's just doing it because she's a surrogate for his own daughter," I explain. "The Amarantha thing when he woke up doesn't help dispel that."

Monteague nods, sighing as he does. "That's pretty much my diagnosis. Though you don't need six years in medical school for one as easy as that. I'm keeping him and Sensat separate for now. She's actually enjoying herself out there at the moment, and it's not healthy for him to try and keep his daughter alive."

"Yeah, no shit," I mutter. "You gonna talk to him about it?"

"It is a difficult subject to broach," Monteague admits. "And a gradual progression. You can't just expect him to stop caring about losing his family. Though we can push him in the right direction to move on."

"What kind of push are we talking about here?" I ask.

"Vortash has a stubborn personality," Monteague says. "A soft approach would be ineffective. I'm not saying we have to be cruel, but he needs to understand that Sensat isn't his daughter. He can love her like his daughter, but they're not the same person. It's harsh, but in the long term it's a mercy for him. Like I said, it's not healthy."

I glance across at Monteague, a thought hitting me. "Last time I checked, Vortash still doesn't trust you because of you trying to put Sensat in that chair when we first found her. Plus you denying him from seeing her isn't gonna help with that."

"True," the drell nods. "So you're suggesting you should be the one to talk to him?"

Well, that's cut quite nicely to the heart of the issue. "Well…yeah," I nod. "I'm on decent terms with him, at least. That gives me something to work with. Besides, you said this was just giving him a push. I'm not gonna dive into his psyche."

Monteague frowns, not looking too happy, but shrugs. "He's already reclusive and annoyed, so you can't particularly make anything worse."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I say.

"I've had years of training in this field," Monteague points out. "I could interpret it as hurtful that you're insinuating you can do a better job than I can."

Oh, shit, he's right. "Hey, Monteague, I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know," the drell smiles. "I'm just having fun because you tend to be awkward in that kind of situation." Of course he is. Bloody trolling drell.

"Alright, you've proven your point," I sigh. "But I do still want to talk to Vortash. I might be able to at least help get him off your back about Sensat for five minutes."

"I suppose I'd just be delaying the inevitable if I said no, since you'd just talk to Vortash once I discharge him," Monteague says, sounding amused at my tenacity. "Sometimes talking to a friend can be better than a psychiatrist, anyway."

"Cheers," I say, giving him a smile. My various cuts have all stopped bleeding, so I'm not gonna look like I just murdered someone when I walk up to Vortash. That's good, at least. "I'll talk to him, and you can patch me up while I talk to Garrus? I don't think any of this is life threatening."

"As you wish," the drell nods. "He's behind the screen on your left hand side when you walk in. I'll be on the other side of the room with Garrus when you need me." He walks off, letting me move left and push open the screen to Vortash's bed, pulling it shut behind me as he looks up, a brief look of relief on his face when he sees it's me. Well, that's a new one from him.

"Where's Sensat?" he asks immediately. Ah. He's relieved because a new person means he has a bit more hope of seeing her. Poor guy. Monteague said he had a stubborn personality, so he won't react to a 'softly softly' approach. This surrogate daughter thing has gone on long enough now for me to be worried enough to actually do this.

"Nice to see you too," I say. I was gonna ask how he's doing, but I don't think he'll be in the mood for chit-chat. "Don't you mean where's Amarantha?" I ask, taking the seat next to his bed as Vortash looks at me, startled. Gotta be cruel to be kind…

He shakes his head, sighing. "The drell put you up to this, didn't he? I saw that look he gave me when I woke up and said that…"

"He's concerned, Vortash," I say. "For good reason." I dunno how to say this without sounding like a dick… "Look, no-one's doubting you care for her. You've been great to Sensat. But she isn't your daughter. She isn't Amarantha."

"I know," Vortash snaps. "I got shot, I didn't go insane. Let me see her."

"So this isn't you treating Sensat as a surrogate of your daughter?" I ask. He's in denial about it, clearly, which makes the whole thing even worse. Sensat needs Vortash's help, but he needs help to put this whole thing into perspective. "Even with everything you've been saying about Amarantha, the links between her and Sensat, the fact you've basically become her adoptive dad?"

"And what if it is?" he replies, eyes narrowing in anger. "Have I done anything bad to her? Is this hurting Sensat somehow?"

"No," I say, honestly. "But this isn't about Sensat for once. It's about whether or not it's hurting you."

"I'm fine," Vortash says, glaring at me.

"Are you?" I ask rhetorically. "Do you really think hanging onto the past is good for you? Especially when someone else is involved?"

"What do you want, Shaw?" he asks. "For me to just drop everything that's happened to me like it's nothing? I lost _everything._" The turian doesn't sound upset when he says that, just plain angry as a growl escapes him. "You don't stop hanging onto something like that."

"No, Vortash, I don't want you to forget and pretend it never happened," I say, endeavouring to keep my voice calm as his gets louder. "I can't expect you to let it go. But that doesn't mean you can't move forward."

"And what would you know about it?" Vortash growls. "Have you ever lost everything in your life, Shaw?"

I'm about to say something sympathetic like 'no, I haven't', or 'I can't pretend to know what it's like'. But the thing is...I have. "Yes," I say simply. Vortash stares at me in surprise, letting me continue. "Four years back. My entire family, all my friends, home, everything." This isn't the normal backstory I tell people. Usually I say I left everything behind on Earth, but I didn't lose anyone. It's a risk, but I think Vortash needs the honesty to help him get out of this. Or at least have a point the two of us can relate on. Besides, no-one on the squad really knows my 'past' anyway, so it's not a huge deal in that respect.

"And you can just say that?" Vortash says, shaking his head. "Like it's nothing to you?"

"I guess I just moved past it," I say, suddenly feeling sidetracked as I think back to it. Mum, Dad, my bro, everyone back home. Then it all gets snatched away by Shiara...and I barely ever gave it a second's thought.

I was between it all, though. Just moving into uni. I was leaving my parents and most of my friends behind anyway, so part of me must have moved on already. I didn't have any firm ties down, so I really didn't have anything to lose by being taken. Besides, in all the excitement, seeing the Citadel, all the alien races, finding Garrus, working out what's going on...I never stopped to think about what I lost until it was too late.

Or I just never really cared. Like it or not, I should've been a lot more emotional than I have been about it, but I never was. Even now, I don't feel sad. Just disappointed and guilty. I loved my folks and everyone I knew, but I was so ready to move on...that was that. I think a small part of me thought, maybe even still thinks, that after everything with the Reapers is sorted out I'll somehow be magically transported home. But that's not how it works, I suspect. I'm gonna have to form a life here, settle down somewhere, watch the galaxy rebuild. And I never had a chance to say goodbye.

"You can't just move past it," Vortash says, shaking his head and snapping me out of my stupor. "That's too cold."

He's right. It _is _cold. But admitting that isn't going to help me help Vortash. "I found other family," I explain, trying to put it into words as best I can. "Rebuilt everything. I'm not kidding myself by thinking I'll get what I had back, cos I can't. It's nice to try, but you'll never actually succeed. It's not possible." Vortash stares at me blankly, like he's trying to get the meaning behind what I'm saying, but isn't quite getting there. I sigh. I'm not the right person to try getting through to him. Hell, I've probably just made it worse.

"Look, I think...I think I made a mistake trying to talk to you about this," I say, getting to my feet and feeling oddly down as I do so. "I dunno if any of what I said made sense, or helps you. I hope it does." Vortash keeps looking at me, but it's a thoughtful silence rather than a hostile one. Maybe that's a good sign. "Get well soon, anyway." With that, I slide his screen open and step back out, walking over towards Monteague and Garrus, shaking my head. That was just dumb of me to try and play psychologist. All I've really done is realise how much of a jerk I can be. Nice.

"I think I'll just leave it to you next time," I say to Monteague, who reaches over to get some dressings and disinfectant as I sit down next to Garrus' bed and try to make myself cheer up. The conversation did at least make _me _think, at the very least. "It was a push, but I dunno if it budged him."

"Vortash is recovering from a gunshot wound, and you pushed him?" Garrus asks, feigning shock. "I didn't think you were that cruel, Ian."

"Haha," I say sarcastically. "So, how's your arm and hand? Still a bit stiff?"

"The doctor says it'll be fine in the morning," Garrus smiles, as Monteague chuckles and sits opposite me, quickly putting the disinfectant on my chest slashes and making me gasp a bit at the feeling. "So, I heard you were sparring with Melanis. That obviously ended well for you." He looks towards my various cuts emphatically.

"Eh, it was a draw," I shrug. His mandibles widen in a smirk at that, making me grin back and shake my head. "No tiebreakers. We really were just working out frustrations."

"I'm just disappointed I didn't get a chance to see all that combat training I gave you in practice," the turian says. "Monteague told me the mission went well, but he wasn't more specific."

"Well, you were right about them trying a bait," I say, my tone becoming more businesslike as I rattle off the details. "No clue on the Malestrom locations, but Whiteguard have a target. Shurta had a blueprint roll for the place where the bombs are waiting to be deployed. Course, I don't know where that is, since the container I found had a flash grenade inside, but he waved the real thing in front of my face before he left. Oh, and they recently received a huge sum of money to buy the Maelstroms from a mysterious benefactor, who I'm willing to bet my left nut is Umbra. They have fingers in everything else, so having a mercenary group to carry out their work makes sense."

"So you think Umbra are the ones saying where they want these Maelstroms to be used, not Whiteguard?" Garrus asks. "They're just a proxy?"

"Yep," I nod. "It's a distinct possibility, anyhow. Course, that doesn't do us much good if we can't find those blueprints. We know they exist, and that Shurta ran off with them, but…"

"We still don't know his location. Or Shirion's," Garrus sighs. "And we've got tomorrow and the day after that, at the most, to find these bombs."

"Harga might still know something," I point out, which makes Garrus' eyes light up. "He's the one target we can actually track."

"Believe me, tomorrow, he's exactly who you and I are going after," the turian says, distinct growl in his tone as he flexes his repaired arm. "I'll send the rest of the squad to scout out anything on the Maelstroms or that blueprint. But Harga's not escaping us again."

Huh. I appreciate we don't like Harga, since he's a slaver, but Garrus seems a little _too _angry. "Look, we just got unlucky with him leaving Garm for us," I say. "I wouldn't take it too personally that he left a trap. We were trying to kill him, after all."

"I don't like being fooled," Garrus growls. "Especially not by a lowlife slaver." Oh, damn it, he's taking this personally. Looks like I'll be keeping an eye out for Renegarrus when we head out in the morning, then…

"Then we won't let him do it twice," I smile, trying to be as optimistic and happy as possible to counter his mood. "You can brief everyone in the morning, though, cos it is _late._" True enough, I check my omni-tool clock, seeing it's almost 1am. "Krogan hunting needs me rested up."

"Alright," Garrus nods, as Monteague finishes dressing the main wounds on my chest. The face scratches obviously aren't anything to worry about, and neither is my bloody lip, so I'm fine with that. "I'll see you in the morning, Ian."

"See ya," I say, getting to my feet and turning to the drell. "Thanks, Monteague."

"Don't mention it," he says, smiling. "Sorry about…cockblocking, you said?"

"Cleaning up those cuts makes up for it," I say, not daring to meet Garrus' eyes as I hear a low chuckle rumble through the turian. "I'll see you in the morning too."

"Goodnight, Ian," Monteague says, as I walk out of the medbay door and move towards the dorm. The living room is pretty much empty now, asides from Butler and Laet laid out on two different couches, presumably from having fallen asleep whilst sitting with the others. The immature kid in me wants to run and get a permanent marker to draw on Butler, but I shake it off and go up the stairs into the dorm instead.

From there, it's a quick and quiet walk across the room as I hear the other squad members settling into bed. As I'm climbing up into mine, I look down at Erash in the bunk below me. The turian's just staring up at the bed frame above him, barely acknowledging my presence as I sigh and lay myself out on the mattress, turning over and looking up at the roof myself. I just want to forget he ever told me what he did.

Too much crazy stuff today, I swear. So close but yet so far with Melanis, uncomfortable truths with myself about what I've left behind over the years, and another krogan hunt tomorrow. I close my eyes, rolling over and burying my head against the pillow. Seven hours sleep, before this whole thing starts up over again.

Things are getting too complicated too quickly these days.

**A/N: A lot of stuff happening this chapter. More than I actually anticipated, funnily enough, so that was nice. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it all. _Especially _the sparring. Cos I've been wanting to write that for a little while now.**

**So, more krogan hunting next chapter. Though said krogan hunting is gonna kick off a definite deviation from the normal way these cases go, so look forward to that.**

**Oh, and sorry this took a little long. I was finishing all my exams (I'm free for like two months! Woo!).**

**Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time!**


	52. Ian vs The Cage

Chapter 52

30 Seconds to Mars: Hurricane

**October 14th, 2185  
****2:34pm, Omega time  
****Archangel's hideout**

The dull ping of the toaster ejecting my breakfast is just about enough to make me lift my head up from the table with a groan, rubbing my eyes as I push my chair back and let out a yawn as I walk over to get it. I guess this constitutes to brunch, actually, since it's well into the afternoon by now. I only realised this morning that I was awake for almost twenty straight hours yesterday, which wouldn't be bad by itself, except for the fact I went on three missions and got beaten up by Garm _and _Melanis. So suffice to say I slept like a log.

The house is pretty much empty, though I caught Garrus when I was walking down the stairs to get my food. He explained that Monteague discharged him, and he already briefed the rest of the squad to start looking for the Maelstroms and those blueprints I found evidence of. I, on the other hand, was allowed my lie in because I've been placed on the official krogan hunting team with Garrus, and we're going after Kron Harga at one of Omega's disgustingly regular slave auctions. Garrus was flexing his recently repaired arm the whole time he was explaining the Harga mission, so I'm fairly sure he's taking the fact a krogan got the better of us to heart.

Though with the stakes as high as this, I can see why he's tetchy. Aria wants the bombs by the 16th, and it's halfway through the 14th today, so…we've got maybe a day and a half before I can expect to see our C-Sec ID pictures across every single holoboard on Omega. Considering we have an investigation with about as much life as Michael Barrymore's career, we're not in the best situation. Short of a miracle, Harga's our only solid lead.

Still, I can't but help appreciate being able to quietly get something to eat and wait for a mission to start. This is the first time in a while I've had to just sit down and relax a bit, and with how frantic things have been alongside Erash's revelation and whatever it is that's going in between Melanis and I, I really need some time to eat toast and do nothing right now.

"Ah, so you finally decided to join us," a flanging, female voice says, growing louder as its owner walks into the kitchen and opens the cupboard next to me as I sigh. Think of the devil, and she shall appear. "Good thing we didn't have any training scheduled for this morning, or I'd have had to drag you out of bed."

"I'm counting my blessings as we speak," I say, rolling my eyes as I butter the toast then put it on a plate, taking it back to the table. Melanis decides to follow, taking the seat next to me as she opens one of those turian burrito things Garrus used to eat back on the Citadel.

The two of us sit in silence briefly, enjoying our separate meals. I feel like I need to break the ice, though, especially given yesterday and all the biting involved there. "So…no hard feelings after the sparring match?"

Melanis turns her head to look at me, predatory eyes flashing, but chuckles and nods as she swallows her mouthful. "Not at all. You put up quite a good fight." I wait for a mention of what happened after we were done fighting, but it never comes. She obviously wants to forget about it, and to be honest, that's fair enough. As much as I do like her, and as much as I get the feeling she likes me, something about the idea of me caring for her and vice versa gets her really, really pissed. Like, she'll be nice, then suddenly growling in my face. There's presumably a reason, but until she's ready to share, it'll have to go on the back burner.

"You didn't do too bad yourself," I say, managing a smile despite feeling a bit sad about having to ignore feelings that only cropped up recently. "Though I get the feeling I was the underdog in the whole thing."

"Well…I did expect you to be pinned and at my mercy within about a minute," she replies, grinning back at my smile. "And from the sounds of things, you thought you would be as well. I'm surprised you asked to spar."

"We were both tense yesterday," I shrug. For whatever mysterious reason she's hiding. Goddamn detective instinct making me want to find it out. "I figured hitting each other would iron that out. You know, blowing off steam and all. Seeing as we're not screaming at each other, I assume that it worked for you too?"

"Yeah, it did," she nods. Melanis moves back towards her food, but I quickly stick my hand out, holding it in front of her.

"Friends?" I ask. Even if we're not taking our relationship any further, I at least want to make up with her. Go back to how we were before the Maelstrom issue came up.

She rolls her eyes, laughing, but takes my hand and melodramatically shakes it. "Yeah, we're friends," the female turian says, still laughing as she takes a bite out of her burrito. "So, what makes you so special that you're allowed to sleep until two pm?"

"I'm in the boss' good books," I explained. "Apparently the experience of having Garm kick the shit out of us really helped bring Garrus and I closer together, so now we're basically the team tracking down Harga. And since slave auctions open in the afternoon…"

"You get more sleep. Trust you and Garrus to find a way to stay in bed," she chuckles.

"Oh, right," I say sarcastically, grinning. "Cos you seem _so _busy yourself."

"I got told to do a sweep of the Talon district for anything," she says calmly. "I did it, so I thought I might as well come back to base for something to eat, see if you were awake to provide any riveting conversation."

"How fortunate for you, then," I reply. "That's our plan at the moment, though? Just sweep the districts and keep an ear to the ground?"

"Unless you have an omni-tool app that tracks Maelstrom bombs, then yeah, it's the best we have," Melanis sighs. "We'll find something. You know how these things go. The mercs will get stupid one place or another, give something away, then we pull the thread and see what it unravels."

"I guess," I nod, not feeling as confident in that as I'd like to. "Bonus points for the poetic turn of phrase."

"Thank you," Melanis says, clacking her mandibles in amusement. "I liked it myself. So when do you and Garrus set off?"

"Soon as I finish eating," I say, looking down at the half slice of toast left before I cram it into my mouth, then stand up while chewing. "So that'd be right about now."

"Then I should get back to the Talon district, see if anything comes up," Melanis says, getting to her feet too. "Watch out for Garm behind any doors."

"Haha," I mutter. "Good talking to you, Mel."

"Same to you, Ian," she smiles, turning to walk away, but tilts her head back around. "I'll beat you in a spar one day, by the way."

I shrug, smiling back. "You name the time and the place, and I'll be there."

"I'll bear that in mind," she chuckles, then walks off as I stack my plate in the dishwasher. I move towards my locker after I've done that, stretching on the way to try and work out some of the aches in my muscles. Friends with Melanis is nice, I suppose. Uncomplicated, at the very least, which we both seem to need right now.

I pick out my pistol, sniper rifle and a few grenades, then head upstairs for my armour set and the HVB. Going in unarmed and unarmoured isn't going to work at the slave auction, since it's going to be packed full with mercs and we need them out of the way to grab Harga. Which means we take the front door approach. As Garrus would say; just like old times. Besides, two people bursting in with guns is going to cause at least half the occupants to run out, and the ones left will be the one shooting at us. So it makes that distinction a lot easier.

I quickly check the HVB on picking it up, testing the weight. I've still not had much practice with it, since no-one on the squad has any experience with this kind of weapon, and the power cells for the electric blade mean I have to hold the thing in two hands to keep any control with its weight, but it's definitely worth taking along. I slide it onto my back, checking my reflection in the mirror.

Full body armour with the helmet up, pommel of the sword showing over my right shoulder, sniper rifle on my back, plus a pistol and grenades on my hip. Something's missing.

I quickly root around the cupboard, pulling out a spare Predator and holster, slapping it on my hip. Two pistols. Much better.

Time to go to the auction house.

########

"It was that left," I say, just as Garrus flies the shuttle straight past our turn. "Ooh, good effort. The next turning point is only two minutes away."

"I'd make a comment about you driving instead, but I know you'd come back with a remark about how you can't drive, so I'm not going to bother," Garrus sighs. "Harga's not worming his way out of this one, though. He _has _to be here. Traders don't miss an open auction, which means he'll be right where we want him."

I glance over at the turian, hearing the faintest hint of a growl in Garrus' voice as he finishes talking. "You sure you're going to be able to keep Harga alive when we get to him?"

"I know we need to question him alive," Garrus nods. "After that…well, we'll have to see what happens." I keep my sidelong glance on him, until his eyes meet mine and I look back out the windscreen again. "What?"

"Nothing," I reply. "I just wish the whole debacle back at the apartment had hurt your arm more than your pride."

"This isn't personal," he says, and there's a definite growl this time. "He's the only lead on the Maelstroms. I don't like losing leads."

"Fair enough," I shrug. I know Garrus well enough to tell he's lying, but it's not as simple as snapping him out of these moods. Once we have Harga cornered and Garrus is back in control, he'll be fine. Being on the back foot just winds him up the wrong way. Besides, his motivations for getting to Harga aren't even that important, so long as we're successful. "How's your arm doing?"

"It feels fine," Garrus replies. "Monteague did a good job with the bone weave. I'm fine to punch through guards and fire a gun, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm asking how you are as a friend," I say. "Though knowing you're mission fit is nice." I turn around fully in my seat, looking at the turian as he stares out the windscreen. "Are you sure you're alright, mate?"

"I'm fine. Maybe a little stressed, but I think we all are right now," he says, clicking his mandibles. "Seriously, Ian, I'm okay. Not that I don't appreciate the concern." His voice softens at that last bit, satisfying me enough to turn back around as Garrus gets to the turning point and puts us back on track.

"Alright," I say. "I guess knowing you for this long makes me more susceptible to worrying when you get your arm snapped."

"Don't remind me about the snapping thing," he groans. "My arm aches every time someone says that. I left the grav clips back at base this time."

"Probably a good idea," I admit. The mission doesn't call for them, after all. This isn't a stealth operation by any stretch of the imagination. "You know, what's to stop Harga just running as soon as we get into the building?"

"Krogan don't run," Garrus says. "He'll want to fight us as much as we want to fight him and his security."

"Well, there's another detail," I say. "The auction house isn't the biggest, but it's still big. There's gonna be at least ten security guys in the trading room, and I'm not talking rent-a-cops."

"So we'll take them down," Garrus says confidently. "We've handled worse with Shepard."

"Yeah, exactly. With Shepard," I chuckle. "That pushed the odds considerably in our favour back then."

"I like to think we were a pretty big part of her success," Garrus laughs, then sighs after he's done. "How long until she's…you know, back?"

"Not long now," I say. "Probably less than a month. You'll get her back, Garrus." It does suck for him…I know he's got to be feeling a bit lonely, even with all the friends he has with the squad. Being told you can't see the woman you love for two years is incredibly harsh, especially with the doubts he must presumably be feeling.

"I know," he says quietly, then tries to bring his voice back to normal. "So, where were we?"

"You were explaining how we're not going to die?"

"Well, even if we lose the fight, we might not die," Garrus points out with a grin. "Harga's probably looking to take us alive, now that I think about it. He'd make a fortune selling us as slaves."

"That's really not helping," I say, trying not to think about that.

"We have the element of surprise," Garrus says, chuckling at my expression. "That should let us thin the room out. From there, we have grenades, good weapons and a lot of experience. That should do the rest." I can see the auction house coming up…two story building, quite deep and wide, but nothing too impressive. Enough to house maybe three hundred people and slave cages.

"And you couldn't spare anyone else from the squad to help?" I ask, as Garrus brings us down in the parked car park.

"Apart from Laet and Monteague, no," he says. "We need every area of Omega covered for clues on the Maelstroms. Besides, I thought this could be some bonding time for us."

"Next time, just take me to the cinema," I reply, as he pops the cruiser doors and we step out in full armour. This feels so weird, about to waltz into a building when I'm not undercover. Though seeing the guards' faces is gonna be priceless. The two of us break into a small jog across the street and to the auction house door, which Garrus quickly knocks on until a human male guard opens the door. His eyes practically pop out of his head when he sees the two figures in front of him.

"Hi," Garrus says, then grabs the guy by the back of the head and slams his helmet into the guard's face. There's a loud crunch as the guy drops, letting Garrus and I walk in and draw our assault rifle and pistols respectively.

I take a quick look around, mapping out the area. Probably about a hundred seats laid out in rows of ten, with the whole area flanked by what looks like thick marbles pillars. In the seats, shocked bidders look back at us in amazement, as eleven…no, twelve guards of various races reach for their weapons. And at the front of the room, standing in front of a transparent box that holds about fifteen batarian slaves, is Kron Harga himself, stopped midsentence by our entrance and letting out a loud growl.

There's a pause, until one guard, a turian, growls "get those motherfuckers."

I duck to the right, dashing behind a pillar as screams fill the room and virtually the entire crowd surges towards the exits. The mercs get a few shots on my shields, but they're not dumb enough to risk killing prospective clients, so there's time for everyone to get into position as the throng of people gradually clears. I'm not exactly big on capping civilians myself, and neither is Garrus, so the two of us hide and wait too. I smile to myself as we do, though. I heard the guards firing Phaestons. That makes things easier.

After a minute, the guards are apparently satisfied the room's cleared out sufficiently, opening fire on the pillars Garrus and I are hiding behind, paint and sparks flying off them as I flinch, reaching and activating the tactical cloak. Keeping low, I run out from behind my pillar and sprint towards the turian guard at the back of the room, getting behind him. From there, it's simple to kick him in the back of the legs, grab him by the neck and remateralise, letting me fire with a pistol now Garrus and I have them flanked.

A sniper rifle headshot takes down a human merc on my left, as I empty half a clip on a salarian trying to get away from me. "If you don't kill the shield, then he's going to kill you!" a krogan voice bellows, and I turn my head to see Harga still standing next to the slave cage, except now he has a shotgun. And it's pointed at my unprotected back.

The remaining mercs exchange looks, then start shooting again, riddling my shield with bullets as a shotgun blast hits my back, weakened by the range but enough to halve my shields. I try moving back into cover with the shield, but the dead weight makes it impossible, so I have to drop him and run behind another pillar. Harga fires again, knocking my shields down completely, but I turn and fire a volley of shots at him to push him back into cover.

"_Stay put_!" Garrus barks in the radio, as I look out and see three mercs advancing towards my position…before a grenade rolls into the middle of them and blows the small posse sky high.

"Much obliged," I grunt back, moving out of the cover and drawing both pistols, barely even waiting for my shields to recharge. There's five guards left, three engaging Garrus out in the open, with two more hidden behind pillars. Not counting Harga still blasting away behind us. I give one of the vulnerable guards both barrels of the pistols, the poor bastard not standing a chance with his back turned. The one who turns to engage me has Garrus shoot him in the back instead, and the final one gets enough rounds from each of us for him to be used as a makeshift sieve.

"You idiots! It's _two people!" _Harga yells, and I turn to see him striding out towards me with his shotgun outstretched. I manage to side-roll away from his shotgun blast, noting his choice of an Eviscerator. I'm about to dodge again, but my roll's brought me right in front of one of the guards in cover behind the pillar, a fairly burly turian. He grabs my arms in a lock, and Harga laughs up as he lines up the second shot as I struggle to break out. Garrus is out of my line of sight, presumably busy with the other guard, meaning I can't do anything except take the blast, my shields dropping to nil as some of the rounds slice across my flesh.

"If you don't want to be missing your head, drop the weapons," the turian growls. I reluctantly follow his command, but I do it just as a sniper shot flies past Harga's head, making him duck and turn towards the source. The turian's head follows the sound as well, giving me all the opportunity I need. I kick a foot back into his knee, and manage to wriggle an arm free, swinging it around and elbowing him in the face. He yells out, letting me go, and I quickly grab the HVB off my back and swing it like a bat at his chest.

He literally splits in two. The claim a genuine, quality HVB can slice through any material is definitely true, as the turian can attest to, seeing as his torso is lying on the ground next to his legs, face frozen in a look of horror. My expression matches his.

I slide the blade back over my back, trying to forget that image as I scoop up the pistol and check on the Harga situation. Said situation appears to be Harga backpedalling towards the exit at the realisation he only has one guard left, even as I see Garrus dispatch that guard with an expertly aimed volley of Vindicator fire. The two of us emerge from cover, pointing our weapons at Harga who faces us from the auction house stage, still managing a confidently evil grin as he stares us down. "There's no Garm to protect you this time, Harga!" Garrus shouts, the flange in his voice more noticeable when he raises his voice.

"I have other ways to protect myself," he grunts. Harga has the same deep voice as most krogan, but there's this educated edge to it. Kinda like a more posh accent. That'd explain why he's smarter than your average krogan, I suppose. "I wasn't sure if you'd have the nerve to break into something like this, but I took precautions. You see these slaves?" He indicates to the batarians, and more importantly, the collars around their necks. Ahh, that's not so bad. Weaver gave everyone a crash course in bomb collars after Mirki'it's red sand warehouse, and I made sure to actually pay attention. "Fine things. Would've got me a good price. But keeping you two busy pays for itself."

"So if we come towards you, you're going to set off the collars?" I say disdainfully. "Not very krogan of you, winning a fight through something like that."

"Damn right," he says, cruel grin stretching wider. He pulls a switch out of his armour, presses it, then opens the cage door and throws it before closing it again, and I hear the cage locks clamping down. What the fuck? "I'm setting the collars to explode in five minutes, and I'm leaving. Feel free to chase me. But by the time you get me cornered and subdued, five minutes is going to pass. Or you can hack the lock, but it's a double locking system."

"And the locks run on different circuits. So if one's released but the other isn't, it locks straight away again. It's a double hack," I finish for him. "Needs two people." I can't even signal the code to the batarians, because they have hand restraints, so they can't even use the damn thing.

"The human has brains," he rumbles. "I'm not winning by blackmail. That switch can deactivate the countdown. The code for it is five-three-seven-two, but the poor bastards in there don't know that." I glance to the slaves, as one frantically tries to grab the switch, to no avail. That glass is gonna be sound-proof. Probably blast and bulletproof too. "The fight's still on. You've got to decide if you still want it."

"What kind of a choice is that?" I shout. "Why are you even giving us a choice?"

"Because it's a lot more fun this way," he chuckles. "I get to make you squirm. Choose well." With that, he runs to his right hand side towards the fire escape. Garrus and I both start shooting, but he's away before I can line up my aim properly. With Garrus sprinting after him.

"Garrus, wait!" I yell, running towards the turian. We need Harga, but if fifteen people die right now so my identity might be safe, it's not going to have been worth it. "We need to hack the locks first, then get Harga!"

"He'll have got away by then!" Garrus shouts back, whirling around to look at me, obviously eager to get going. "I'm not letting him escape! Not if he has what we need to find the Maelstroms!"

"We don't even know if he does!" I reply, voice still raised. "Whereas we know these slaves are going to die unless we help them, now!"

Garrus growls, glaring between me and the slaves, then shakes his head. "No. We need those Maelstroms, and we need this lead. If our identities get out, a lot more than some slaves are going to die." And with that, he turns and dashes off out the fire escape himself.

"You don't know that!" I shout, running after him and looking at him sprinting down the street after Harga. For fuck's sake, I don't believe this… "Garrus! GARRUS!" Nothing. He doesn't even look back, disappearing around a corner as I look back at the slave cages and the street frantically.

Garrus has a horrible point. With our identities uncovered, no more Archangel and Deadpool. Omega goes back to the way it was, and a lot more people die. Not to mention everyone we know being at risk. Harga might be the key to us stopping that.

On the other hand, he might not. He's close to Whiteguard, but at the end of the day, he's close to a few merc groups for offering slave labour. That doesn't mean they told him the Maelstrom locations, or where the blueprints are. On top of _that_, krogan are infamously hard to break. Our time limit could run out before we get anything out of him, and this is completely ignoring the slaves in danger back in the auction house.

So, I have the choice between the possibility of information that'll stop the Maelstroms, or the certainty that people are going to die.

…

Certainty has to beat possibility. "Goddammit, Garrus," I hiss, jogging back into the room and to the transparent slave cage. The glass will be bullet and blast proof, so no point trying that. I try desperately hard not to look at the slaves banging on the glass with their bodies, collars around their necks presumably beeping. I only look up for a few seconds as my omni-tool initialises, but the look of fear and desperation in the sets of four eyes make me look back down immediately.

Okay. There's two lock networks for me to hack, but I can only run through one at a time. And they're the exact same type of network, but with different passwords. Harga wasn't lying when he said two of us could hack it. Okay, okay, just got to think…

Overloading the lock might be able to get it to glitch open. Unfortunately, the circuitry is underneath the frame of the cage, which happens to be reinforced steel. Shit. I need a way to those wires…and I have an HVB attached to my back.

An electrical HVB.

I move to cut to the circuit, but then, caught by a flash of inspiration, I dig the blade into the cage wall, trying to drag it up and cut out a door shaped hole as fast as I can. The material is incredibly thick, so even though I'm cutting through, the rate it's taking means I'm not gonna be able to get in there and grab the switch to stop the countdown in the small amount of time I have. I waste a precious minute trying, then gasp in frustration, pulling the sword away. Not gonna work.

Painfully aware that at least three minutes must have passed by now, I step back and start the hack on one lock, watching the progress bar as I draw the HVB, gently pressing it against the metal. It cuts through remarkably fast, and I edge it in until I can see the lock circuit. Okay…hack's at 37%. I slide my thumb to the button to charge up the blade, getting ready to sink it in even further.

The batarians have stopped banging on the glass, some just watching me with hopeful expressions, others sat down and whispering what I can only assume are prayers as their death creeps closer and closer. Another forty or so seconds, and I'm at 96%. Just a minute left until detonation. I have to time this perfectly.

100%. As soon as it hits, I press the blade charge and drive it home. The circuit sparks, the door jolting open as I let go of the sword and dash towards the opening, heart jumping as I see the switch on the floor. Five-three-seven-two…

Then the door slams shut before I can get in it, sparks coming out of the lock dying as I look to it in shock, opening my omni-tool and looking. Only one network shows, for the lock I already did, which has now locked itself again. The one I put the HVB through has gone offline. And it's jammed in the locked position.

All I can do is step back, and the slaves start banging on the doors again, all of us completely helpless. They've got maybe thirty seconds. I have to at least try. Yanking the HVB out again, I jam it back into the initial cut I was making, heaving the blade up as hard as I can. "Come on…" I grunt, muscles straining, but it's like trying to drag a spoon through a sea of treacle. "Come on-"

There's no delay between the collar blasts. I'm not looking up to see the detonation, fifteen heads exploding at the same time, but I do see the walls of the container turn red and grey. All over. Completely transparent to opaque, as the disgusting liquids run down the wall, beginning to pool at the bottom. I can't even look, turning away in disgust, feeling ready to retch.

I stay like that for a few minutes, crouched on the ground, trying to process what I just saw. Then there's a crackle in my radio. Garrus' voice. _"He got away," _he pants. _"Harga got away. Where the hell were you?"_

"Where you should have been," I say back quietly, then disconnect myself from the channel. Garrus. The sound of his name is making me feel sick to just think it. He did this.

When we get back to base…I don't know.

I really don't know anymore.


	53. Ian vs The Split

Chapter 53

The Fray: How To Save a Life

I don't wait around for a shuttle ride off Garrus after the couple of minutes it takes for me to recover from the detonation. Right now, I don't think I can bear to be in the tiny shuttle with him. The blood and brains must have pooled at the bottom of the cage now, but I can't bring myself to look inside at the corpses, so instead I stagger out into the street and off in the vague direction of the base.

He left them behind to die while he went after Harga. The one rule of not allowing civilian casualties, and he breaks it for a lead. That and whatever feud he has against that fucking krogan. I know I should be feeling angry at him too, and I am, for putting Garrus and I into this position, to be sick enough to use that many lives as a distraction. That doesn't change the fact we could have saved those slaves, though.

I take a couple of running steps as I enter a side alley, hopping up on a dumpster, then I use that to give me the height I need to spring onto a fire escape ladder and begin working my way up to the rooftop. Ten minutes should get me there before Garrus. He's going to spend at least five looking for me back at the auction house, and I'm not planning on radioing back and explaining the situation. Looking for me will let him see that cage. See what he's responsible for.

I pull myself onto the roof, breaking into a run, trying to focus on each stride and my controlled breathing. The sight of the hundreds of holoboards on Omega doesn't help with that, though. In a just over a day, I'm gonna see what I'm responsible for by not helping Garrus with Harga. Names and faces up for everyone to see. Harga didn't leave us that choice out of some kind of krogan honour. He left it because he knew he'd probably be able to cause us to split. And he was right.

I push it out of my mind as best I can after thinking that, resolving to deal with it back at base as I break into a hard run, pushing myself, jumping, heaving myself over ledges, gasping in breath as my legs ache from the effort, just thinking about my physical effort until I finally start to recognise my surroundings as the streets leading up to the base.

I slow down to a walk, panting as I spot a ladder leading down from the roof. Descending down that and walking the last few hundred metres to the base only takes a few minutes, but I see the shuttle swooping into the garage while I'm walking across the bridge towards the living room. Garrus obviously gave up on searching for me, then.

Most of the squad seem to be back from recon missions, since Laet, Monteague, Melanis, Weaver, Butler and Sidonis are wandering around in the kitchen and living area. Laet's the first one to see me come in, shooting me a friendly grin, but then his mandibles tighten in surprise as he sees me alone. "Did you and Garrus get split up?"

"He's just coming in now," I say, trying to keep my voice calm and rational despite how much I just want to let rip about Garrus leaving the slaves to die. "You can ask him how he got split up when he does."

True enough, the door from the garage opens up on the far right hand side of the living room, letting Garrus walk in with his helmet off and glare at me when he does. "Where the hell did you go?" he demands.

"Ian was just saying you could explain how the two of you got separated," Laet says, grinning as Garrus walks in. The others are watching, though no-one seems too concerned right now. Fuck, they probably think this is banter between us…

"Because he can't follow an order and focus on a mission," Garrus snaps. "So now the only lead we have on the Maelstroms is gone. Because of _you._"

Six shocked pairs of eyes turn on me as I fold my arms, staring right back at the turian. "Right. What you're failing to remember is that I stayed back to try and help fifteen hostages. Who're now dead because I didn't have another person to hack the lock that stopped me from saving them. Because of _you._"

The assembled squad can only watch as Garrus and I face each other down. Laet's mouth is slightly agape, as is Butler's, but I can hear Melanis and Weaver sigh as Monteague's head lowers, and he faintly mutters what sounds like a prayer. At least that's the 'we fucked up' talk out of the way…

"My room," Garrus growls dangerously. "Now." I don't argue, and none of the squad try to follow us as we walk upstairs and into the large bedroom, presumably all processing what they just got told. The seemingly invincible partnership of Garrus and I has been smashed. "You'd better have a damn good explanation," he says as the door slides shut behind us, growl in his voice still present. "I had Harga cornered where two of us could restrain him."

"And I had the lock ready for both of us to hack," I reply angrily. "So honestly, I wouldn't mind hearing your explanation too, _mate_."

Garrus puts his hand on his fringe, mandibles flexing wide in a fearsome expression I've only seen used against our enemies. "Maybe you've forgotten that we need those Maelstrom bombs? Do you even realise what'll happen if we don't get them? We lose _everything_! No more squad, the merc groups get the upper hand again, and everyone we know or knew under threat until we just give ourselves over to the mercs! So if I have to sacrifice some slaves who'd be dead or recaptured in an hour, even if they were free, then I'll do it."

"And right now, Harga's not going anywhere," I reply. "He's still on Omega, we'll have other opportunities to catch him and find out what he knows, _if _he even knows anything. But we don't have a second chance to save those slaves, do we? We could have regrouped and gone after Harga again, instead of throwing it away like this and getting nowhere!"

"No, Ian, we would have got somewhere if you'd followed orders," Garrus snaps. "I'm the leader of this group, and I ordered you to go after Harga with me. That way, at least we could have caught him, rather than lose everything!"

"So what, the only way we would have got something was by catching Harga?" I ask rhetorically. "Have you even _considered _the idea he doesn't know anything? Huh? He's the guy who supplies slave labour, not Whiteguard's bloody confident! It'd be like the turian councillor telling state secrets to the coffee boy!"

"And have you considered the fact that Harga supplied the labour that moved the Maelstroms out of the spaceport?" Garrus replies furiously. "You don't think there's a chance that he'll know where those bombs are?"

"A chance, sure," I shrug. "But there was a guarantee those slaves were gonna die." I breathe in deeply, trying to calm myself before changing tack. "You're being way too close minded about Harga, anyway. This isn't just about chasing down a lead, this is personal for him giving us the slip earlier."

"Yeah, I don't like Harga," Garrus replies. "He's a slaver, of course I don't. But you were the one always telling me to see the bigger picture, Ian. The bigger picture is that, without those bombs being delivered to Aria, a whole lot more than fifteen people are going to die."

"So we should have saved the slaves, then gone after Harga and got the information!" I say, trying to defend myself even as Garrus' point manages to hit home.

"For fuck's sake, you can't save everyone, Ian!" Garrus bellows. The two of us stand for a few seconds, pulling in breaths, room silent except for the sound of us breathing. "You can't be the hero every time," he says again, voice quieter now. "We have to make the hard choice."

"I know," I say, shaking my head. "But I can't. I can't not try to do that. It's in my nature. I'd disobey that order you gave me every single time, because I can't bring myself to just leave fifteen people to die like that." I pull in a deep breath. There's only one way we can resolve this without it leading to problems in the future. "So I'm quitting."

Garrus looks ready to yell something back until he realises what I said, then his eyes widen in surprise. "What?"

"I quit," I say simply. "You need the kind of person who'll follow an order like the one you gave, Garrus, and it's not me. I don't want it to be me. Not if I need to leave a pile of bodies behind me to get the Maelstroms."

Garrus stares at me, shaking his head and taking a few steps back from me. "But…you can't just leave. Not with things like they are with Aria."

"Omega doesn't need heroes, Garrus," I say. "It needs people like you. The ones who can make those hard choices you were talking about. Right now, we've got nothing left but Harga, and I know you're not going to stop for anything until you have him. I can't be a part of that. My conscience doesn't need that kind of stuff."

Garrus mandibles droop as I talk, but within seconds he's resolved, previous stern expression back on his face as he nods once. Only a faint glimmer in his eyes give away any kind of emotion. "Fine. If you can't do this, get out." That's it. No goodbyes or anything. A mutual agreement that I need to go. Nothing more.

"I will," I say. I wait for something more from Garrus, but when I don't receive it, I just walk over to the door, feeling numb as I look back. "Good luck," I say, then walk out, leaving the turian alone as I walk on autopilot into the dormitory. I didn't realise I had all that building up in me, but…well, there it is. If Garrus wants to find those Maelstroms, then he's going to tear Omega apart to protect us, sacrifice anything to get to Harga. I'm no good with sacrifices. At this point, the team doesn't need a humanitarian.

I've had people warning me about Omega changing me, after all. Aria and Melanis both said it, and this pretty much seems like the branch in the path. I can stay here, condoning the deaths of fifteen innocent slaves with my silence, and not be able to look at myself in the mirror. Or I can get out while I still have a chance and a bit of humanity left.

I grab my holdall from underneath my bunk, the one I had when I first arrived here almost a year and half ago, moving to the cupboard and starting to stuff my clothes into it. Seeing those slaves get blown up hasn't left a good psychological effect on me, that's for sure. I guess that could mean I'm not thinking straight, but right now it's just made me realise that I'm extremely close to some kind of breaking point. I've seen a lot of fucked up stuff on Omega. Being a part of it could push me too far. I don't know what'll happen if I go past the breaking point, just that it's there. I'm sure it's nothing good, though.

So I need to get away. Garrus didn't exactly contest it, either. We've known each for a long time, a damn long time, and he knows I'm not cut out for this campaign. When it comes to times when we can play hero and save everyone, I'm ideal. But we're basically running a black ops operation, not some kind of superhero squad. Garrus doesn't need someone with a Big Damn Hero complex.

I only have a few spare clothes, socks, underwear, all of which I push in without much care. I pull out my suit, managing a little smile as I look at it, remembering the undercover mission Melanis and I did back when Williams was around. Things haven't always been like they are now. We've had some good times. Really good times.

Course, I can't help remembering Mierin's death along with Williams. How it could've been avoided if I'd made the hard decision and shot that fat bastard. It's a massive post-hoc rationalisation, but still…it's true.

I shake my head, frowning now as I put the suit in the bag and then zip it up, leaving a t-shirt and some jeans to change into as I quickly take my armour off and pull that stuff on. The armour has a separate case, which I can put my sniper rifle and HVB in. I'll keep my pistol on my hip while I'm walking to spaceport. Means anyone thinking of a mugging will wait for a target who hasn't got a gun.

I have a flicker of temptation to pack up and walk out, seeing as that's the attitude Garrus seems to have to me leaving, but I can't. I need to say goodbye to everyone first. Plus I need to work out how to warn Garrus about Sidonis…I'm not going to go back into his room and tell him now, but it's at the point now where he has to know. Especially when I'm not going to be around to do anything myself. I'll message him on the way to the spaceport.

After that, I just have Aria's identity reveal to worry about. With a team who'll actually follow orders without question, Garrus should be able to track something down. I hope. If not…we cross that bridge when we come to it. I should be feeling worried, but I just have this overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. Right now, I want to get out of Omega. That's about all I've got the capacity to concern myself with. After I've said goodbye to everyone.

I can feel my hands shaking slightly as I pick up my bag, cradling my armour set in my arms as I move to leave the dormitory. I stop, taking deep breaths and closing my eyes until they steady themselves. Closing my eyes just causes the images of the bloody cage to show up, making me flicker them open again, shaking my head. God, I didn't realise I'm so damn _fragile _right now. Things have a way of building up and crashing down when you least expect them to, so I suppose that's what's happening here.

I walk over to my locker once I get to the ground floor, quickly pulling out the armour case, stowing said armour and the sniper rifle in there. I leave my holdall and the case leaning on the locker, turning to look at the people in the living room, watching a news report on a shoot-out and explosion at an auction house, fifteen slaves with detonated bomb collars, Archangel involvement. I'm sure the squad will have been able to piece together what's happened by now.

I walk up to the group, consisting of Laet, Butler and Weaver, clearing my throat. The three turn to look at me, then at the pile of stuff at my locker. It's not hard to work out what it means. "You're no' leaving," Butler says simply.

"I'm leaving," I say, managing a smile, even if it's a fake one. "Garrus and I just talked about it. If I'd followed his orders, we'd have at least got Harga out of that whole clusterfuck." I point to the screen to emphasise my point. "We both agreed I'm never gonna be someone who obeys an order to abandon people."

"Wait, so Garrus left those slaves behind?" Laet asks, sounding surprised.

"Look, Harga basically put us in a position where we had to make a choice," I explain, not wanting to dwell on the subject too long. I don't think this whole thing makes Garrus evil, it's just a sign he's reached the point where the ends always justify the means. "Either both of us stayed to help the slaves while he escaped, or we both went after Harga to have enough force to subdue him. I chose slaves, Garrus chose Harga, we ended up with nothing."

"So you ignored your commanding officer's orders," Weaver says bluntly. "Your fault."

Butler and Laet give him disapproving glares for that, but I shrug it off. Considering we all think Weaver's ex-STG, it's not a surprise he has that kind of an attitude. "I'm not going to argue over who's to blame," I say. "I'm just telling you why I'm leaving. I know I should've gone with Garrus, and if you're thinking that you would have in my position, that's good. It's why you're cut out for this job. But something like today happening once is a tragedy. If it happens again cos of me, then…it's whatever one worse than a tragedy is. I'm not going to be responsible for that."

"So stay," Butler insists. "You dinnae need to go, just wait until this whole thing blows over."

"Trust me, Butler, I need to go," I say, chuckling dryly. I consider mentioning that breaking point thing, but it just sounds crazy. And weak. I'll not bother. "I know it sounds stupid, but I can't be part of a squad that leaves people to die, even if it's for the greater good. I understand why it needs to be done, but it's just not…me, I guess."

There's a small silence, broken by Weaver getting up and shaking his head at me disdainfully, before the salarian walks off. He's probably thinking I shouldn't have got involved in this thing in the first place if I couldn't cope with that sort of thing, and to be honest, he's probably right. "I'm no' going to lie, Shaw, it sucks to hear you say that," Butler says. Then he sticks out a hand. "But I've heard it before from when I was in the Suns. Took some people a few years to realise the work wasn't right for them, but they ended up happier for it. I didnae hold it against people then, and I'm no' going to start now." I take his hand, shaking it firmly as he smiles. "Got to say, though, I dinnae know how Omega's going to survive with Deadpool."

"It managed before I got here," I smile back. "Besides, I'm leaving it in good hands." I turn to Laet, who's holding a hand out himself, and I grab him in a wrist clasp.

"I can't believe this," the turian says. "You're my best test subject for inventions. Who am I going to experiment on now?"

"I have no idea, but they've got my utmost sympathy," I say, grinning as Laet's mandibles flare and he pulls me into a bear hug. "Good luck, man. I'm going to miss having a decent gunsmith."

"Decent? You're leaving me on an insult?" Laet asks jokingly, but there's a sad tone to it as we both laugh. I've known the guy for a fair while now, plus I've helped him deal with the _Taurcan _and losing Darrael. Not as much as I could have helped him, though. I look the turian up and down, but decide not to tell him about Erash. Neither of them need that right now, and the squad sure as hell doesn't.

"Thanks for everything, guys," I say, smiling at the Scot and the turian. "Keep in touch." They both nod, giving me an opportunity to walk past and towards Monteague's room. I don't make it there before a certain four-eyed someone stops me, though, from his position leaned on a pillar near the kitchen.

"Hey," he says. I stop, looking at him curiously, waiting for an insult. It doesn't come. He was within range to hear what I was saying to Laet, Butler and Weaver, so he'll know what happened. Which makes the lack of insult even weirder.

"Hi," I say back. For some reason, I'm really not comfortable looking at Grundan right now. I mean, I'm not normally good with him anyway, but right now…I really want to avoid seeing batarians. It's hard to explain why, I just don't want to, not with the cage still in my head. "What is it? Come to say you're gutted you'll never work out the deep, dark, secret I'm supposed to be hiding?"

"No," he replies. "I came to say I respect someone who's leaving over the death of fifteen batarians. Especially a human."

I do a double take on that, barely believing what I'm hearing. Grundan just said that? "I'm sorry," I say. "My translator must've glitched, you just said 'respect' instead of 'hate'."

"I still don't care much for your kind," Grundan grunts, ignoring me, "or you. I know you're hiding something. But you're doing something about the loss of batarian lives."

"Yeah, course I am," I say, surprised at how Grundan sees this as weird. "People are people. Being a batarian doesn't make your life less valuable than another species'."

Grundan looks at me quietly for a few seconds, then nods. "Most humans I know of don't value batarian lives more than a scratch on a car." Okay…that was oddly specific. I know Grundan better than to delve, but I'm guessing that was relevant to why he's had it in for Butler and I from the start. Maybe a batarian he knew got killed for scratching a human's car? A human merc's car? I don't know. "I wanted you to know that I respect what you're doing, anyway. You and me…we're alright. For you doing this."

"Well, uh…thanks, Grundan," I say. God, this is so surreal. "Not that I'm trying to encourage you, but if you respect me for leaving, why aren't you?"

"The squad can survive losing one person," he says. "It can't manage two, and I'm not going to be the one who shuts us down. You're making a statement for both of us, and I'll settle with that."

"Okay," I nod. I think this is the most personal a conversation with Grundan's ever gotten. And the most friendly. I've earned a begrudging respect, which is better than flat-out hatred in my books, so I'll take it. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…good luck, Grundan."

"Same to you," he mutters, then pushes off the pillar and slowly walks towards the others, and the screen that's got the news displayed on it. Of all the people I was expecting to get a nice goodbye from, Grundan definitely wasn't one of them. A good riddance, maybe, but not whatever that was.

I walk into Monteague's room, glancing around. Monteague is at the terminal on his desk, typing away, and I can see Erash and Sensat sat around Vortash's bed. I decide to go and see the drell first, who turns to look at me as the door slides shut. "I've heard the news," he says, before I can get a word in. "It is…saddening to see you go."

"What, because you'll become obsolete without me injuring myself?" I ask, making the drell laugh. There's no point being downbeat. I don't hold a grudge against any of the squad, after all, things just haven't worked out. I'm angry at Garrus, not them. "How'd you hear so quickly?"

"Garrus radioed down and told me to give you any medical supplies you thought you might need," Monteague says, handing me a few medi-gel capsules. "I told him you couldn't fit the entire medical wing into your bag, so I hope these will suffice."

"I don't plan on getting injured walking to the spaceport, don't worry," I say, pocketing them anyway. "So, uh…yeah. I'm leaving."

"I am aware," Monteague says, sounding amused. "As I said, I'm sad to see you go. I assume it's to do with the auction house raid that's been all over the news?"

"More or less."

"So not just that, in other words," the drell says.

"Well…" I pause, thinking about how to explain the whole 'breaking point' thing I have going on. I feel like I ought to tell someone, and Monteague's a doctor and psychiatrist, after all. Pretty good choice. "You ever feel like you're at the point where everything's build up on you, and if one more thing happens, it's like…you'll tip over the edge, or something?"

"I know of it, yes," he says, previously relaxed expression replaced with a curious one. "What kind of edge are you talking about?"

"I dunno," I shrug. "Not suicide or anything. It's more like, uh…like I'm fragile right now. It was probably seeing those batarians get...you know." I don't want to say 'blown up'. Makes me think about it too much. "So anything on top of that is gonna just break me, I guess. If that makes any sort of sense."

Monteague frowns, large black eyes narrowing a little. "Are you feeling alright?"

"A bit numb after it happened," I shrug. "Kind of dazed. That went away, and right now, just…" I look down, sighing. Leaving the squad on top of everything at the auction house…I'm not doing too great, being really honest. "I feel a little depressed, I guess. Though that's normal when you're leaving friends behind."

Monteague nods. "It is. But I don't think that's all there is to it."

I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "What, is something wrong?"

"Ian. You just saw fifteen batarian slaves blow up," Monteague says. I feel like flinching when he puts it like that. "That has a psychological effect. You're in mild shock."

I stare at him, realising this isn't any kind of a joke. Why would it be? "So…what, should I be worried? I feel fine."

"And you'll be fine," he says. "Your symptoms aren't severe, and it'll pass by itself. But being on Omega and on missions right now isn't a good idea for you."

I nod my head, not really believing him. Of course I'm a bit depressed…but I don't feel like I'm in shock. I'm fine. But I don't want to go out on a medical argument with Monteague, particularly since he'll win. "Well, now I have my doctor's note, I'm sorted," I chuckle. Monteague manages to laugh too, though there's a notable look of concern after his diagnosis. "Am I alright to talk to Vortash and the others?"

"Go ahead," Monteague says. I throw my arms wide, giving him a quick hug and patting him on the back. "May Arashu watch over you."

"You as well, mate," I say, as we let each other go. "Thanks for keeping me in one piece all this time."

"You are welcome," he says, inclining his head to me. I repeat the gesture, taking it as my cue to leave and walk over to Vortash's bed, where he's still recovering.

"I hear you are leaving," Erash comments, as I lean on the well next to him, Vortash and Sensat looking up at the two of us.

"Who told you?" I ask, frowning. Did Garrus radio ahead to the whole squad?

"You were talking loud with the drell," Sensat pipes up calmly. "We heard everything. It's sad."

"Yeah, it is," I nod, trying to ignore the fact this is the same girl we saw kicking ass in Afterlife, now back to being totally innocent. Umbra really are bastards for doing that to her. "Sorry, Sensat."

"I understand," she says simply. The scary thing is, I really think she does, despite me not explaining anything to her. Vortash isn't saying anything, expression suggesting he's in the same camp as Weaver. Erash looks downcast, and I can see why. I'm the only person who he's told his secret to.

"It has been an honour working with you," Erash says sincerely, clasping my wrist as I do the same to him. "You have been…a good friend."

"And you've more than repaid the favour," I say, leaning next to his ear. "Keep working to redeem yourself," I whisper, then pull away. He gives me a small nod of acknowledgment, expression still solemn as I turn to Vortash. "Look after Sensat, alright?" I already cocked up my motivational talk with Vortash earlier, so there's nothing else for me to say. As long as she has someone looking out for her, I guess it's better than nothing.

Vortash doesn't say anything, but he gives me a nod, which is the confirmation I need. "Cheers for everything, guys," I say, looking around the group of three people. One who's being left alone with a horrible secret, one who's clinging onto a girl he's made his daughter, and one essentially a weapon to be set off by an organisation we know nothing about. The chances of getting three cheers and a round of 'he's a jolly good fellow' are painfully low. True enough, Erash and Vortash nod their farewell, though Sensat gives me an enthusiastic wave which I return, just before I walk out of the medbay.

Straight into Sidonis. The turian towers over me, his cream-marked face looking down at me. "So. I hear you're leaving," he says.

"You hear right," I reply, not even bothering to ask who told him now that the entire squad knows. "This you coming to say goodbye?"

"Pretty much," he shrugs. "Not sure I like it, but I can give you a goodbye." I know Sidonis fairly well, but the two of us don't hang around that much. Mainly because I still can't quite get over the knowledge that he's supposed to betray us, despite how much I trust him. Which means I don't know how he'll be reacting to me quitting over what happened.

"Think of it like the military," I say. "If you don't follow orders, you'd get discharged. This is me discharging myself."

"Discharging yourself from protecting Omega, great," he says cynically. "We have four Maelstrom bombs floating around out there-"

"And you guys will find them," I snap, suddenly feeling extremely pissed off. What the fuck gives him the right to judge me? "You don't need me thinking with my heart instead of my head."

"We need everyone we can get," Sidonis growls. "But whatever. I know you've made your mind up."

"So you don't disapprove of what Garrus did?" I can't help asking. I mean, this is Sidonis the betrayer. I thought he'd at least be on the fence. But here he is, vehemently defending the squad.

"No. He chose Harga so we could save more than some slaves," Sidonis says. "That's our job. Protecting as many people as we can. I'm going to keep doing it."

"Well, good for you," I say, the words coming out as bitter despite the fact I genuinely mean them. If he's this enthusiastic after all this…it bodes well, anyway. The two of us stare at each other for a few seconds, and the anger suddenly disappears about as quickly as it came. God, I just made an ass of myself… "Sorry, Sidonis. I'm just not in the best mood right now."

"Forgive me if I'm not feeling overly sympathetic," the turian replies snippily. "You and I have had some good fights together. Watched each others backs. That's why you're getting a civil goodbye right now."

"Well, thanks for giving me that, at least," I say. I don't want to be sarcastic back, seeing as I didn't exactly help avoid putting him in a bad mood with my earlier comments. "I still want the squad to succeed, Sidonis. This isn't me turning my back on everything we've been fighting for here."

"No, it's not," Sidonis says. "It's just you turning your back on us." I'm not sure how to respond to that, making the turian give a sarcastic chuckle and shake his head. "Goodbye, Ian. Good luck wherever it is you're going."

"Good luck," I say, making him grunt an acknowledgment as he walks off. "Keep working for the good guys," I mutter under my breath, striding off towards my locker. The living room's empty, so thankfully I don't have to stop for more goodbyes as I sling my holdall over my shoulder, carrying the armour case like a briefcase. Even with Sidonis' vehement defence of the squad…I'll message Garrus about him on the way to the spaceport, and tell him to keep an eye on Sidonis.

I look over to the exit out to the bridge, sighing as I see Melanis leaning on one of the pillars just before the bridge. The one person I haven't talked to, and the one person who's going to have the hardest goodbye. It'll be easier if she doesn't like my decision, since that way she can just yell at me to leave and we'll be done with it. "You waiting to tell me that I'm giving up and you disapprove?" I ask, walking up to her, the anger from the Sidonis conversation flaring a little.

"If this had been a few months ago, I might have," Melanis says, shaking her head. "But no, I'm not."

I stop in front of her as she says that, surprised at the admission, so I put my things down and fold my arms. "So what is it? Now you're just happy to see the back of me?"

"After everything that's happened over the past few days, do you really believe it's that?" she asks. Again, her voice is genuine. Well...this isn't what I expected. I'm glad she's not having a go at me, but I'm curious as to why that is.

"No, no, of course not," I say quickly, feeling bad I insulted her like that. "Just trying to get a few last jokes in before I take off."  
Melanis shakes her head, giving me a small smile. "Even with what just happened, you're still trying to make jokes." She pauses, still with that little smile on her face as she does. "I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you."

"I've got to cling onto something, I guess," I shrug. "Humour's as good as anything else. It's got me this far without going crazy."

"I'm amazed that Omega hasn't managed to beat that out of you."

"I think if I give it any longer, it will," I admit. "I can't be that kind of person, though. I mean, I hate to admit I'm not built for this...but I'm not." I chuckle, thinking back to how Melanis treated me when I first joined the squad. "You were right all along."

"You always try to be the hero, Ian," Melanis says. "I wasn't convinced that was such a good thing to begin with, but...sometimes, that's what we need."

"Not if you ask Garrus," I mutter with a dry laugh.

Melanis flexes a mandible wryly at that. "Sometimes our illustrious leader can be a bit...thick."

I chuckle as she says that, nodding my head. She has a point. The entire time I've been with Garrus, I've pretty much followed him in blind faith. But he doesn't always make the good decision. Like it or not, he doesn't fit into the romanticised idea of him I have from the games anymore. "Yeah. I think it's taken a little while for me to see that. Though I gotta admit...I'm surprised you're the one trying to encourage the idealist."

"I think I've said before that I wish I still had your idealism. It's not necessarily a bad thing." She shoots me a grin to match my own, her teeth bared from the movement of her mouth plates. "Just often misplaced."

"Well, I've worked out Omega isn't the best place for idealists to flourish," I say. "Thick or not, Garrus is right. I don't have that edge you guys do."

"Not everyone does, Ian," Melanis replies. "And...I think we need someone who _doesn't_. Otherwise we get lost in the ruthless calculus of it all."

"Yeah, except because I'm not like that, Garrus and I didn't get anything out of that mission," I point out. "We could have saved the slaves or captured Harga, and we still ended up with nothing."

"Then blame Harga for that. He's the one that made you choose in the first place."

I shake my head, managing a smile. "Look, Mel. I know you're trying to make me feel like this isn't my fault and that I should stay. But I can't. You know I'm not prepared to do what Garrus will."

Her shoulders slump as she sighs, making me feel like an ass. "I know. I wish it could be different, but I understand." Her understanding is something, at least. It makes me a bit better, knowing I have Melanis' approval, of all people. "Do you want some company on the way to the spaceport?"

"I..." I almost say yes. The word's on the tip of my tongue. Then I think about what happened with Tali after Shepard's funeral, having to leave someone behind that I want to be with. If Melanis is at the spaceport, it just prolongs how much it sucks to say goodbye. So I can't say yes. "I'll be fine, Mel," I finally tell her. "Thanks for the offer, though. Seriously."

"Are you sure? Don't want you getting jumped on the way there."

"I can still handle myself, Melanis," I laugh. "If I can tie with you in a sparring match, I can take a few thugs."

"You make a good point." She chuckles and grins after she says that. "If you would have won, though, I wouldn't have needed to ask."

"Maybe one day, once Omega doesn't need vigilantes, we can get in that rematch, huh?" I say, holding out my hand for her to shake. Of all the people I'm leaving behind, I'm really sad about Melanis. We've come such a long way. At least we ended things as friends.

Melanis shakes my hands, firmly but warmly. "I'd like that. Maybe it can end better than our first try."

Oh? And here I was thinking she'd 'forgotten' the aftermath... "So, you're acknowledging that now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, with an innocent smile. "I just meant that hopefully I would win."

"Right, of course," I chuckle, then I step forward a little, lowering my voice. Since she's brought it up...I need to say something. "Mel...I'm sorry. About pushing things."

To my great surprise, Melanis steps forward too, and hugs me. Her warmth and smell wash over me again, as her head leans down next to my ear. "Don't be," she whispers, then steps back, breaking the hug. "Good luck, Ian. Stay safe."

"You too," I say, giving her a nod as I heave my stuff up and walk out towards the bridge, that last hug making me feel even worse than I already did.

This isn't how I imagined things ending. That's life, though. From here, I go back to the Citadel and then…something.

But right now, something seems a whole lot better than what I'm leaving behind me.

**A/N: And so comes the end of MtM3…nah, I'm just playing. In Media Res dictates Ian ends up at the house again, after all. Getting him to that point is the fun part.**

**Ian might have seemed like he was jumping between emotions a fair bit this chapter. That's relevant. Not bad writing. Though I guess it could be both. (Hopefully not).**

**I can't give a preview for next chapter, since that's spoiler…y. So you'll just have to wait and see what's lined up!**

**Hope you enjoyed this, thanks for reading, and see you next time!**


	54. Ian vs The Machine

Chapter 54

The Killers: For Reasons Unknown

I'm quietly fuming as I walk along the streets towards the spaceport, past rundown apartment buildings, people scurrying from building to building like being out in the open air is going to kill them somehow, the general crap society I've been part of for over a year. I can't help a cynical thought about seeing our work in action slipping into my head as I walk. I guess things would have been a lot worse without us. At least people on Omega have a group standing up for them, rather than just leaving everyone scrambling to keep their heads above water by themselves. We hold back the flood that would put everyone under.

"No, _they _hold back the flood," I correct myself, muttering under my breath. "_You _held it back. Now you're leaving."

Seeing Omega in all of its shitty glory is only a small part of why I'm angry. Part of it is Garrus, too. He had his reasons for going after Harga, but he's in it for revenge now. However noble his goal is, vengeance is a cold, hard reality of this entire thing. As long as the two goals of getting information on Harga and getting revenge on Harga keep in parallel, Garrus isn't going to be bothered enough to make a distinction between the two.

It's weird. I had this…I dunno, this view of him in C-Sec like he was some kind of infallible idol for me, someone to aspire to. Some romanticised version of him I'd picked up from the ME games, and to be fair, that wasn't so inaccurate back in the C-Sec days, back on the Normandy SR-1. It's taken Omega to show that, despite our friendship, despite how close we are, the two of us have fundamental ideological differences.

I don't hate him for it, either, through a mixture of coming so far together and understanding why he decided to go after Harga. I don't think he's evil, or that it somehow makes me superior for going after the lives at risk rather than the lives Harga represents, but…he's changed. He would've stuck with me at C-Sec. He would've at least tried to get to me to stay with the squad, rather than shrugging his shoulders and telling me to leave.

Then again, why should he have done that? I made my view pretty clear, and he agreed. That was the end of the discussion. Presumably there was a point where Garrus had to make the decision to change into someone who could do what he did back at the spaceport, but he did it. Yet here I am, getting the hell off Omega when I faced the exact same decision.

Which is the last reason I'm angry. Because I keep getting the horrible feeling that, however noble my intentions, this is just me running away something I should've accepted when I first arrived on Omega. Abandoning Garrus and the squad.

I'm not abandoning them. I'd only hold them back. Except I'd only be doing that because I'm choking on the hard decisions, just like Garrus said.

I shake my head, opening up my omni-tool to type a message to Garrus. I'm sticking to my guns on this one. There's no point trying to deny that I feel a bit guilty, but that's only natural. I'm doing the right thing. Besides, I'm not completely abandoning them to their fate.

The message subject reads _'urgent' _as I start typing it out. _Just thought you'd want a heads up on the future; keep an eye on Sidonis. I would've told you if I'd stayed, but since you're not around to yell at me now, this seems as good a time as any. But don't let him out of your sight, don't give him any solo missions, and if he calls you saying he needs your help and you alone, get the squad ready to defend an onslaught of mercs. I'm not saying he'll betray you. I'm just saying he could, and you need to watch out for it._

I'm tempted to end it like that, but I sigh, adding a bit more to the end.

_Sorry for leaving it this late. When Shepard's back, I'll make it up to you. I'll get a bottle of wine you two like._

_Good luck._

That's better. I press the send button, waiting until I get the confirmation that the message sent, then I open my sent mail box to double check it's gone. Message delivered. Perfect. That's one extra thing off my conscience. Leaving a more friendly end to the message helps, too. As angry as I am at Garrus, I still see him as a brother to me. I can't bring myself to be too huge a dick to him because of that.

I close the omni-tool, hefting the shoulder straps of both my armour case and holdall. I planned on carrying the armour like a briefcase, but then handle sucks and bites into my palm, so I used the shoulder strap. Means I have two things slung over my back, but it's not too bad. I'm thankful for packing light on casual clothes, anyway.

I can't believe I'm looking forward to the shuttle ride. Eighteen hours where I can sit down and just relax for once. Sleep without worrying about being attacked by groups of mercenaries. Then it's back onto the Citadel and into the apartment. I can afford to live off the amount of credits in my bank account for a month with relative ease, so long as I spend sensibly, which should be long enough for Shepard to be brought back.

After that…just pray I have a dossier. Or wait for Garrus to get in touch. I don't see why I wouldn't have a dossier, mind you; I was on the original squad, after all. Plus it'll save Shepard a job recruiting me. Instead of shooting her way through wherever I am, she can just take the elevator up to the apartment. Maybe even make some coffee and catch up. That'll be nice.

Up ahead, I hear the dulled sound of pistol and assault rifle fire, along with krogan and turian voices shouting insults at each other. Initially I ignore it, but the sound gets closer and closer, suggesting a moving gun battle. Shit. They won't recognise me as Deadpool, but getting caught between two fighting gangs is a bad idea anyway. I quickly peel off right down a side alley, which looks like it should still be going in the direction of the spaceport.

At least until it takes me through a darkened residential district, with constant twists and turns. I'm still thinking about leaving the squad and getting back to the Citadel, mind not really on the road, so by the time I look up five minutes after taking my turn away from the fight I realise I'm completely fucking lost.

"Damn it," I say quietly, opening my omni-tool, the machine casting a dull orange light on the dark, scratched walls on both sides of me. I open a map, zooming out, even as I get the feeling I recognise this place. So, according to the map, I'm…

Right slap-bang in the middle of vorcha territory.

Wait, no. That can't be right. I look down again, trying to find the spaceport on my map. Well, this route has gotten me closer to the spaceport, which is a plus. Unfortunately, the fact I'm in vorcha territory hasn't changed. If I don't recognise an area of Omega, that's usually because it's a bad area we rarely visit. Which should've set off alarm bells if I wasn't so focused on being annoyed.

Of course, the fact I'm in this shit situation is making me even more annoyed, but I ignore the irony as I rack my brains for an idea. The gang fight will have moved on, so if I head back the way I came-

I hear the sound of someone who sounds like they're midway through being sick, gargling and hissing, and that one sound is joined by others. "Saw turian go this way!" one definitively vorcha voice hisses, from the way I came. FUCK. "Quick, kill, kill!"

Nowhere to go but forward. And I can't even cloak because I need my armour on, since I can't sync my normal clothes to my omni-tool. I set off in a stealthy run, thankful for the fact my holdall is a soft bag, so there's no noise from the armour case bouncing off it slightly. The vorcha aren't restricted by noise, though, and they're getting closer and closer as I break out of the dark alley and onto the main street.

To be honest, the normal areas of Omega won't be up for any kind of area of beauty awards any time soon. That said, if their only competition was the vorcha areas, they'd sweep the board. There's no kind of rubbish system, just random bits of trash hurled out into the streets. The smell of death and disease hangs in the air, and jagged buildings and makeshift structures oddly reminiscent of vorcha themselves line the street. Everything in sight is either broken down, completely destroyed, or on fire. Even the mayor of Dundee would be disgusted.

With the vorcha hot on my heels, but still unaware of my presence, I spot a small hut building next to the alleyway and dive behind that, keeping my eyes on the street as I crouch behind it and hold my breath. Vorcha, fortunately, aren't the most intelligent of foes, which means my four loincloth wearing adversaries go charging past my hiding place without so much as a second glance. I'm about to step out cautiously, when I hear a rustle of movement next to me. Turning and pulling my pistol in the same motion, I see a handgun levelled at me, three fingered hand clutching the weapon. A familiar turian face looks up at me, teeth bared.

"Hey, easy," I whisper, trying to keep quiet. "I know you…you're Preitor Gavorn, Aria's guy, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Gavorn replies, voice sounding strained. He's crouched behind the hut too, obviously hiding from the vorcha. Makes a bit of sense, given his job. Vorcha hunter extraordinaire and all. "So who the hell are you, and what're you doing here?"

"Charles Carmichael," I say, falling back on my alias. "I took a wrong turn."

Gavorn doesn't look convinced, his eyes narrowing. "Hell of a wrong turn."

"You're telling me." There's a pause as we both keep the guns on each other, even though I know we're not gonna use them. "The vorcha were shouting about a turian coming this way when they were behind me. I assume they're talking about you?"

"Seeing as I just blew up a weapons cache and took ten of them down with it, yeah, probably," he grunts. "They alerted their friends, though. Whole area's on alert, looking for me."

"And since I'm a non-vorcha, they'll probably assume I'm helping you if they see me," I sigh. Walk to the spaceport, they said, it'll be easy, they said… "So in that case, I should probably just help you, since protesting my innocence isn't going to get me anywhere." I drop my extended gun, replacing it with a hand. "Assuming you're looking to get out of here, not ratchet up a few more kills?"

Gavorn lowers his gun too, accepting the hand as I drag him up. "I've done what I need to do, so getting out of here sounds good now." He winces as he gets up, mandibles shuddering, and when he turns to look down the street I can see blue blood running down his back, large puncture wound in his back.

"Hey, you're hurt," I say, quickly reaching for the medi-gel capsules Monteague gave me. "How bad is it?"

"It's fine," he replies, knocking my medi-gel hand away. "I've got a good enough supply, don't waste yours. One of them got smart enough to work out how to use a Kishock harpoon gun." Ugh, the Kishock…it's a crap weapon, but a hit like that is gonna bleed, and medi-gel's not going to be enough to seal it up. Gavorn needs a medic.

I can't take him back to the squad. Taking an outsider there is a terrible idea, and I don't want to be dragged back. The spaceport is near Afterlife, so once we're out of here, I can take him there and see if we can get help. There's got to be some kind of medical provision, anyway. Just got to figure out how to escape…

"Way out to Afterlife is over there," Gavorn says, pointing down the street like he just read my mind. "Ten minutes walk."

"Ten minutes if we didn't have vorcha searching for us," I mutter, getting to my feet too, thankful for the silencer on my pistol. That could be useful. "Let's go."

I'm expecting Gavorn to take the lead, but he lets me go first, and I can sense that he's having to work to keep up with my strides. There's the sounds of vorcha shouting, gurgling and randomly firing weapons all around the area, but distant enough to show they're not on this street. No surprise Gavorn's struggling, though. He'll have had to remove the harpoon from himself, which would have really hurt. He probably shouldn't have too, since now he's just bleeding more. Even if having a harpoon stuck in your back is kind of impractical.

"So what is it you do for a living?" I ask. It's a risk talking, even with my voice low, but I need to try and keep his mind focused through conversation as I cautiously check rooftops. Getting up on one would be ideal…but I need to find a ladder for Gavorn. "Just fuck up vorcha and get paid?"

"You could say that," he replied, keeping his voice quiet too. "Aria hires me to keep the vorcha in line. They don't respond too well to negotiation, so we bring out the assault rifles instead when we need to enforce her law."

"Sounds like a blast," I say. It does seem bad, in one way. Then again, without Gavorn, the vorcha would probably be all over Omega. That would be _very _bad. "How's the job satisfaction?"

"I get to shoot guns and keep Omega clean, so I'm happy," he replies, hint of a growl to his tone. "The only thing I don't get is dental."

"That's too bad," I say, mock-sympathetically. He's got a sense of humour, which is nice. "I know a few people you'd probably get along with well."

"And maybe I'll talk to them once we get out of here," Gavorn says, then pauses, turning his head to the side and spitting a glob of blue blood onto the ground. Ugh… "I'm fine," he grunts, continuing on after me.

"Right. I'm sure turians just do that all the time," I say, finally spying a ladder leading up to the roof of a rundown apartment building. The ladder looks kinda rickety…but a roof route is a roof route. "We're going to have to get up there, or one of those patrols is gonna get lucky eventually. Think you can climb?"

"Sure, they taught us that one back in the military," he says, and I roll my eyes as I hop onto the ladder, quickly looking around. I can't hear or see any patrols nearby, so we should be able to get up there before anyone can spot us. The ladder's physically shaking as we climb, each rung flexing horribly under my hands and feet, so it's a huge relief when I get onto the roof after about two minutes, and Gavorn reaches the top thirty seconds after I do, rolling onto the surface and gasping in breath. He shouldn't be that tired. But telling him he's injured isn't going to help things, since he'll deny it, so we have to keep moving.

"Come on, then," I say, heaving him up and stealing a peek at his back as I do so. There's a lot more blood there than before, with some of it starting to harden and then crack on his plates as they move around. I can see Afterlife tantalisingly close, bright lights towering above the vorcha district, but it's another four hundred metres until we hit any kind of border between this place and Afterlife's district. "Remind me never to come this way again."

"You could get some common sense and remind yourself," Gavorn says, but he chuckles as he does. Unfortunately, the chuckle turns into a cough as he continues walking, and I see more blue blood on his hand as he lifts it up to cover his mouth. He quickly hides it from view, though, not commenting as we reach the lip of the roof. Ordinarily I'd be running, jumping and rolling, but with Gavorn in mind I lower myself down and help him.

"The guy who spends his life hunting vorcha wants to lecture me on common sense?" I ask. "That's funny, Gavorn."

"The money's good," he shrugs. I want to run, but he's walking, with no signs of speeding up. I don't think he can. "Maybe it sounds stupid, but someone's got to do it. The vorcha would take this place over if they could. I never grew up wanting to kill vorcha for a living, but sometimes you've just got to do what you should do over what you want yourself." Gavorn looks at me, then smirks. "Though I guess that's more of a turian thing than a human thing."

"Doesn't really make it any less meaningful," I reply, trying to ignore how annoyingly well that relates to my situation as I look ahead. The roof continues flat for a hundred metres, until we reach more slum housing, carelessly put together with scrap materials. There are roofs, but sketchy ones. "You see them?" I ask, pointing up the roof. "You need to let me check them out before you follow. Could be dangerous if we both go on at once."

"Alright," he replies, but his voice is coming out pained. His legs buckle once as we walk, but he rights himself before I can stick out a hand to help him, face a mask of determination as he keeps on moving. Christ, he's got nerves of steel. And it's a damn good thing he does, given the situation. We make it to the roofs, and he waits while I hop down, testing the surface. I advance from one small roof to the next, checking that too.

"Okay, it's good," I call over to him. "Just keep one roof behind me." Gavorn nods and then, to my horror, jumps down onto the first roof instead of lowering himself onto it. It gives way with a resounding crash, sliding to the side as I run back and dive, lunging for Gavorn's hand. I meet it, grabbing hold, but I can't pull us up. My torso's on the sliding roof material, and with Gavorn's weight too, we plummet off towards the ground.

We're fortunate vorcha architecture is so haphazard. We only fall a couple of metres before hitting a jutting out balcony thing, but that smashes too, and we're falling again, this time through a canopy of cloth that breaks our fall, then that tears, another fall…before we're finally deposited on the ground in a heap, the two of us groaning out as he hits the ground on his chest, and I land on my back, the wind knocked out of my lungs. The holdall barely cushions the fall, and the armour case makes it even worse.

"Fuck that hurt…" I finally manage to gasp after about twenty seconds of trying to breathe, rolling to my side and up onto my feet as my whole body aches in protest. Every vorcha around will have heard that. Which'll mean they'll be here any second. I look up the street we landed on…and I can see it leading up to Afterlife. There's probably about three hundred metres until we're out of this dark, horrible district, and we can run fast enough to escape before the vorcha get here.

"Gavorn, get up," I say, moving to the turian and trying to pull him up. He just groans, only lifting himself a fraction before he flops back down to the ground again. Fuck's sake… I look over my shoulder at the exit, so bloody close. If I leave him, I can make it.

No. I can make it if I take him, too. Hopefully the vorcha will be slow to react. Garrus wouldn't approve, but that's exactly why I'm heading to this spaceport anyway. "Seriously, big guy, put a little effort in," I say, trying to inject some humour into my voice as I put my arms under his shoulders and start dragging him as quick as I can.

"You sound like my ex-boyfriend," he manages to groan, making me give a laugh born of desperation more than anything else. I can hear the vorcha parties getting closer, hisses and gurgles, but we still have time…

"I knew you had ulterior motives for letting me go up that ladder first," I say, trying to laugh again as I pull as hard as I can. Maybe a hundred and fifty metres to go…then a hundred about fifteen seconds after that…

Just as the first few vorcha burst into the street back from the way we came. I start dragging Gavorn with one hand, pulling my pistol and sending some shots down the street that would send normal enemies into cover. The vorcha, however, aren't normal, and keep moving towards us, their regeneration abilities repairing anything that isn't a headshot. Gavorn manages to lift his assault rifle off his back, and starts helping too, still managing good accuracy despite his wounds. The vorcha charge falls apart, and now there's only about eight metres to go.

Whatever hope I had dies, though, as a gang of at least ten vorcha burst around from an alley in front of the exit. As soon as they do that, a screaming horde of twenty vorcha burst into the street from where we were shooting. I stop dragging Gavorn, panting and circling around with my gun up as I look at the baying crowd surrounding us. I'm panting, fear running through me as I look at each and every murderous face. This is the end. Whenever they decide to attack, Gavorn and I are going to get ripped to shreds. I hope I can take a few with me. And I hope it's quick.

They're not attacking, though. They're circling, baying at their trapped prey, but waiting. I only takes a few seconds for me to see who they're waiting for. A krogan, in full Blood Pack armour, is striding towards us from down the street with a smug grin on his face, two krogan who I assume are standard soldiers flanking him. It's not Garm…but probably some lieutenant who's in charge of this district. These vorcha must belong to the Blood Pack. Well fuck.

"So you're the turian who's been causing hell in here," the lead krogan says, looking all too smug as he looks at the two of us, Gavorn on the floor, and me still holding my pistol. "And you got a runt of a human to help. Pathetic."

"You don't want to touch me, Ulron," Gavorn warns, though his voice is weak. Well, they obviously know each other…but I don't think that's a good thing in this situation. "Aria will know it was you, and you don't want that. Not when you're so close to Afterlife."

"So Aria can learn not to send a turian to do a man's work," Ulron grunts. "And not to interfere in Blood Pack affairs. I think we'll leave your head in front of the main doors to Afterlife."

"Send him back plate by plate!" one of the vorcha hisses, making the others nod and cry out their agreement.

"The human…we've never seen you before," the krogan says curiously.

"Well, if it helps, I'm not with him per say," I point out. "So maybe you let me walk out, huh?" I'm trying to sound confident so the krogan doesn't feel like he's winning, but he has me surrounded by thirty vorcha. He knows he's winning.

"No," Ulron says bluntly. "We'll just let the vorcha rip you apart."

"Oh," I say weakly. If I don't do something, Gavorn and I are dead. I need something to bargain with…an incentive to keep us alive.

This is such a horrible idea. But it's this or death. I don't want to die.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I call out, as the krogan and vorcha start stepping forward. "I think we can do a deal here."

Ulron rumbles with laughter at that. "What, you're going to bribe all of us? No chance, runt."

"No, I'm suggesting I'm more valuable alive," I say, taking a deep breath. "Let the turian go, and you can take me."

"And why the fuck would I do that?" Ulron asks, shaking his head. Here goes…

"Cos I'm Deadpool."

The krogan stares at me for a few seconds, then bursts out laughing, shaking my head. "And I'm a turian Primarch." As he says that, I pull my armour case off my back and open it, letting him see the trademark outfit. It takes less than a second for him to stop laughing and start growling.

"Let the turian go, and I'll come with you," I say.

Ulron looks at me thoughtfully for a few seconds, growl still emitting from his throat, but there's a wide smile growing as he thinks. "No. I think we'll just take you both anyway."

With that, he walks forward, still grinning as his fist rams into my face. I fall to the ground, trying to look up and recover…and the last thing I see is a krogan boot slamming into my face. Then blackness. Then nothing at all.

#############

I slowly stir, the back of my head still throbbing from where Ulron hit me. It only takes a few seconds for me to be assailed by the stench of the room I'm in, making me curl up my nostrils, and a few more to work out I'm bound into some kind of machine, my hands and feet in each corner as it holds me vertical. Ulron's standing in front of me, and he grins as I blearily open my eyes. No sign of Gavorn…he must be somewhere separate. Can't worry about that now. "Finally decided to wake up?"

They must've carried me in here and tied me to this machine for interrogation. Well, I'm not going to show him fear. He'll love that. "No, actually, I quite fancied a lie in..." I mutter, faking a yawn.

"A smartass, huh?" He nods at his two krogan bodyguards, who're at a winch on my left hand side. They crank it, and I feel the ropes on my limbs tighten, making me shut my eyes in despair as I realise what this thing is. Each winch is gonna stretch me out more and more, probably until my limbs come off. Medieval, but effective. "Where's Archangel's base?"

The tightening isn't too bad yet, so I don't let my newfound fear show, instead shaking my head. "I didn't hear you say please. And what the hell is this machine?" I need to buy time. I don't know what for. With a lurch in my stomach, I realise no-one knows where I am. There's no cavalry. Just me, three krogan, and a base filled with vorcha. Plus I'm unarmed, captured and tied up. This is _bad. _

"It's a Blood Pack machine, in Blood Pack territory. Precisely where _you _don't belong, _deadpoodle,_" Ulron grunts, then looks to the krogan once more. "Again."

The machine gets cranked again, still not enough to be painful, but the ropes drag across my skin and make it burn as I feel my arms and legs being tugged. "It's a free city," I spit. "I didn't realise travelling was a crime."

Ulron snarls at that, obviously starting to lose his patience as he pulls a knife out from his armour, pointing it at me. "I won't ask the question again, human. Archangel's base. _Now_."

I smirk, trying not to shake in my restraints at the sight of the new weapon. "Why would you waste the time with this machine if you're just going to threaten me with a knife? That's unprofessional." I've just got to tell myself I can hold out...I'm not going to betray the squad. I'd rather die. I just don't think Ulron's going to make it that easy for me.

True enough, the krogan gives an evil grin, flipping the knife in his hand. "You don't need fingers for the machine to do its job... or other parts."

I pause, my mind suddenly lacking a witty retort as I gulp before I can stop myself. "Look, no amount of missing body parts is gonna change what I don't know," I say, changing tack. "He keeps moving around, doesn't tell us his location."

Ulron steps forward, his face almost pressing against mine, and his breath smells absolutely putrid, with a hint of old dead meat that makes me want to retch. "You expect me to believe that Deadpool doesn't know the location of Archangel's base?" He nods at the krogan guards, and this time I can't help but grunt at the sudden stretch, my limbs beginning to protest. "You're stupider than I thought."

"Fuck, you're hurting me physically," I gasp, after the pain subsides. "Don't get my feelings too."

"Wrong answer." Before I have a chance to realise what he's doing, Ulron steps forward, grabbing my right hand as he slices the knife blade across my little finger. For a second, it just feels like the finger's been dipped in ice, then the nerve endings suddenly explode in pain as I see Ulron clutching my finger with a satisfied smirk before he throws it to the ground. I scream out in pain, tears forming as I shake in the restraints, yelling and swearing at the top of my lungs until the pain lessens to a huge throbbing, and I can feel blood pumping out the stump.

As it subsides, I lift my head up to face Ulron. I'm not giving in that easily. Despite the huge pain, I just manage to lift up the middle finger on the same hand, shooting him a twisted smile. "You missed."

Ulron roars in my face, then stomps off towards the cranking mechanism. I feel satisfied for pissing him off, but the feeling passes all too quickly as he cranks the machine three times. I yelp as my muscles strain in their new position, and the krogan walks back around, regaining his composure again as he smiles evilly. "Do you want me to get the vorcha in here, too? They... delight in shredding."

I shake my head, fear settling in the pit of my stomach again. "You aren't gonna get many answers out of a pile of guts and skin."  
Ulron grabs my hand again, making me shake my head and try to plead with him, but the knife comes down on my ring finger and severs it, and once again my world is filled with pain as I scream out.

"You're assuming we don't just leave you here like this over night to think things through," he says calmly, tossing the finger on the ground, though I can barely hear him through my shorter yells and gasps. "Could bring a varren in here to speed the process. Tie him on a leash with just enough give to lunge at you. I'm sure he'll like the body parts you've so graciously allowed to be cut off. We leave you here long enough, he might get free." He looks me right in the eyes, and his calm, murderous expression makes my blood run cold. "Maybe the chain is damaged."

I know I'm shaking and sweating at this point, fearful expression slipping onto my face from the loss of fingers. He's only got eight left to cut off...and the thought of what it'd mean to tell him where Garrus is keeps my mouth shut. I break, they all die. "I guess he won't be wanting a cuddle if he gets free?" I ask, trying to use the talking time to recover.

Ulron looks to the other krogan. "I don't think he's taking this seriously, boys." They both grunt in agreement. "Maybe fingers aren't enough."

"Wait, what?" I actively struggle now, twisting wildly in a mad attempt to free myself. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Looks like his restraints are _too loose_," Ulron snarls, signalling for the device to be cranked a few more times. I throw my head back and groan as it happens, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of my limbs being pulled to breaking point and then left there, the stretching feeling now constant as I look back at the krogan.

"I'm taking it seriously..." I gasp, and I can hear desperation in my voice. "I just don't feel like answering..."

"You will when I'm done with you." Ulron taps the edge of his knife against my cheek, and the sharp blade draws blood. I feel the warm liquid running slowly down my face as the krogan leans close once again. "How much do you think I'll get on the market for your balls?"

I can feel spittle spray on my face as he talks, making me flinch away and tighten up, even more aware of how vulnerable I am. "I dunno," I pant, still not willing to give up the squad, but praying he won't do what I think he might. "You look like you'd be an expert in weighing up other guys' balls."

"Yours?" The knife slips lower, towards my trousers until I'm wriggling and gasping in panicked breaths...then he pulls the knife away, chuckling at me. "Probably nothing. Not even worth feeding a varren." Instead, he drags the blade down my exposed arm.

The limb explodes in agony, but I don't even have the energy to scream anymore, my head and eyes slumping as I get closer and closer to unconsciousness, willing it to come. "Please..." I'm gasping shallow breaths now, all out of witty retorts. I'm just pleading. "I don't know anything..."

"Then let me help you remember." With that, Ulron stabs through my shirt, the blade just nicking my chest as he drags it down. Then grins wide as he sees my bullet scar back from when I got shot in C-Sec. "Well what have we here?" He pricks the scar, and I grunt, trying to wriggle away from the blade by tucking my stomach in. It doesn't work.

"It means you're not the only one who's tried making me talk like this," I pant. I'm still struggling, which makes Ulron suddenly wrap a huge hand around my throat, growling as he squeezes dangerously, and I'm acutely aware of how he could just crush my neck if he wanted.

"I _will _be the one to make you talk, human," he snarls, then drives the knife about half an inch into the scar. I open my mouth in a silent scream, then groan, my head slumping as I black out. The relief only lasts for a few seconds, and when I come back around it's like every wound has been inflicted on me again, and I see Ulron's face against mine.

"We're...talking right now..." I can barely even force out the words as Ulron steps away, shaking his head.

"Why don't you tell me what I want to know, and we can let this end," he says. It's tempting. So, so tempting. But I keep seeing the squad in my head, and I know I can't. As soon as the pain blocks out their faces, that's when I'm going to break. "What is it you humans call it? Immunity?" He pulls the knife out of the scar just as my eyes droop again, presumably to stop me from going unconscious.

I've got the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, letting me spit a glob of it at Ulron's feet, shaking my head. "We call it betrayal."

"Humans pretending at honour." He gives me a menacing stare, then shakes his head. "I guess you won't listen to reason." Turning away from me, he looks to the other krogan, pointing at my discarded fingers. "Get these pieces on ice. And bring the varren." He turns his head to look back at me, smiling. "I'll be back in an hour. You better have your answer in line, or missing fingers are going to be the least of your worries."

I breathe a huge sigh of relief as Ulron leaves, and the other two krogan scoop up my fingers, the stumps just dully throbbing now as they leave me alone. I've barely got the energy to manage a coherent thought, and the two krogan guards are back before I can manage that. One of them is holding a huge varren on a chain, and as soon as the animal spots me, it snarls and lunges, trying to bite at me. The krogan laugh, yanking it back _just _before it can reach me, and they tie it to a hook on the wall opposite me before leaving.

The varren's chain has enough give to let him lunge at me, even as I try to flinch away from the growling creature. One particularly strong tug lets him lick his tongue up my chest, and that small taste makes him double his effort, baring his teeth as he lunges over and over again. I notice the hook rattling in the wall with each effort, and to my dismay, it's getting further and further out of the wall.

I can't give the squad up. I can't, but I know that eventually, Ulron's going to make me do it. I know that if I give them up, everyone's going to die. Ulron will find them, and send every single Blood Pack merc after them. Without the Maelstroms, Aria won't help them. She'll probably help the Pack. Pick them off one by one, leading a huge bloody path across Omega. Hell, Ulron would probably give me back to them. Let them see who betrayed them. I can see the whole squad in my mind, like I did when I was trying not to break, but now the image is messed up. Grundan only too happy to make the end of my life hell, Melanis and Garrus more than happy to let him, Butler's disappointment, Monteague's accusing stare...

Either that, or he'll put me down like a dog here. Maybe use that machine to tear my limbs off and kill me. Let me out into vorcha territory and have them rip me to shreds. Or just keep me as a Blood Pack captive. Parading me around Omega, dragging me like a varren, showing anyone who tries to challenge them that even someone as great as Deadpool can broken.

I can feel myself crying as the hook rattles again, and the varren inches closer and closer. I'm helpless. "Come on," I gasp. The most I can hope is that the varren gets free and kills me. At least I can die knowing I denied them what they wanted. It's horrible it's come to this point, I realise. Normally I'm not the type to lie down and die, but right now...it's the best thing that can happen. "Come and get me, you bastard."

The varren snarls even louder, making the hook rattle, but it doesn't fall free. I can't bear to look at him anymore, tilting my head away as best I can as I close my eyes, sobbing quietly. I'm going to try and hold out when the krogan come back, but I know the truth.

It's only a matter of time.

Ulron's going to make me Sidonis.


	55. Ian vs The Break

Chapter 55

Danny Baranowsky: Repentant

I don't know how long Ulron left me with the varren. I spent most of the time with my eyes closed, trying to keep away from the snarling creature and the reek of its breath, the occasional lunge letting him reach me and leave saliva on my chest and stomach from his licks. I flinch away when that happens, still sobbing as my muscles ache, and my fingers dully throb. One of the krogan came back and stopped the wound bleeding so I don't die from that. That's all the help I've received.

I spent the time with my eyes closed just trying to forget where I am. Forget what's going to happen to me when Ulron comes back. I try to imagine missions with the squad, laughing with them, everything I've done with Garrus, the sight of Melanis smiling at me for the first time...but each time I get close to losing myself, or passing out from exhaustion, the varren's chain rattles and he's snapping at me again, and I'm thrust back into reality. Trapped in a Blood Pack torture machine, completely at their mercy. Those images I'm trying to lose myself in are just memories of the people I'm going to get killed.

I open my eyes as the varren snarls and lunges once more, the chain and hook making a different rattling noise to what's normal, which makes me curious enough to look instinctively. My eyelids are practically stuck together from dried tears and blood, but I get them open, in time to see the flash of varren teeth and its big beady eyes before it falls back. The hook's practically out of the wall, and I can tell another tug is going to do it. That varren won't have been trained to kill me. Just have me screaming. I roll my head back to face it, trying to crane away as best I can, protect myself from what's coming.

Without warning, the creature heaves itself forward with a mighty push, and the chain and hook come flying out of the wall. It crashes into me, and temporarily I'm pushed down by two strong paws, its teeth snapping at my chest and neck...but it can't keep the grip on the vertical machine and falls to the ground, quickly gathering itself. Then it slowly circles its cornered prey, growling quietly and dangerously now it's free, licking its lips before it clamps its jaws around my right leg and starts tugging. The muscles are already incredibly strained from the machine, so having them pulled in the other direction is exruciating, the pain too much for me to make a noise as the varren tugs ferociously.

When that doesn't get me out of my restraints, the creature switches legs. The downward pressure is straining my shoulders as well as the leg, and this time I do scream out. The noise makes the varren try even harder, but it also brings Ulron lumbering into the room with his krogan guards. Instead of doing anything, though, he just grins as he looks.

"I think he likes you. Maybe we should let him play," he comments, reaching to my restraints and loosening them off. Ordinarily I'd be relieved, but with the varren dragging me down to the ground, I'm feeling the exact opposite as Ulron laughs. "Did you know varren prefer _living_ prey?"

My arms and legs are free, so at least I can fight back. I kick the varren in its chest, over and over as it snaps at my face, heated breath almost knocking me out from the smell. One lunge from him makes my right hand fall to the side before I can stop it, and the feeling of my stumps hitting the ground makes me cry out and gives the varren a crucial advantage. His jaws almost close around my neck, and I barely manage to push him back with my left hand. "He's gonna kill me!" I yell. "For fuck's sake, help!"

"Varren can unhinge their jaws and swallow their food whole," Ulron says casually, walking around me. The varren worms away from my left hand holding it back and slams its front paws down on my shoulders. In my weakened state, I'm trapped. "How long do you think you'd last in the belly of the beast? Unable to breathe..." He chuckles as it keeps me held down, growling, its eyes obviously appraising the best way to eat me. "Looks like the varren's about to make him his bitch, better take it away." I gasp as one of the krogan pulls the creature off me, dragging it away even as it snaps and yowls for its prey back.

I can't fight back as Ulron and the other krogan lift me onto the machine again while I gasp in panicked breaths, but I do get a comment in as my restraints tighten again, muscles resuming their same horrible stretched position. "You almost sound jealous, Ulron."

"Only an idiot wants scale itch," he grunts, checking me over. "Looks like you're gonna live. For now. You feeling more conversational?"

"I guess that depends on the conversation." I'm trying to build up my willpower to resist right now, but it's weak. My fingers are still agony, and I'm still in a panicked state from having that varren pin me down like I'm a pyjak or something.

Ulron gets up in my face again. "The conversation where you tell me where Archangel's base is, and maybe I let you live."

"Oh, that one...I'm still not interested," I say, grinning weakly at him. Getting him angry gives me hope. Shows that the situation isn't totally out of my control. Ulron, however, doesn't rise to it.

"Wrong answer, human." He examines my restraints, then starts shaking the one on my left arm, making me wrench in pain, back arching against the machine. "How're the joints feeling?"

I clench my teeth and screw my eyes shut, trying to focus on something else until he lets go of the rope and I gasp at the relief. "A little bit tender..." I finally manage to say.

"Not nearly tender enough." The machine cranks another couple of times, and a torrent of agonised curses fall from my mouth as I feel my muscles ready to tear. "Start talking."

"I am talking," I gasp. Ulron growls, spraying spittle in my face, but the punch I'm expecting doesn't come.

"You know salarians are a truly wicked species," he says, stepping away. "But for a race that developed the genophage, is that really surprising?" He looks at me, waiting to see if I have a response, and I can feel my fearful expression change to one of confusion.

"What?"

"I once met a salarian 'doctor' who... delighted in operating on live victims," Ulron explains. "He just wanted to see how other species worked, tolerances for pain...his was about an hour once we got our hands on him. I still have his notes and equipment, just down the hall."

"You teaching yourself to read with them?" I spit.

Ulron gives a cold smile, again not rising to the bait. "Human thinks he's funny." He pokes me in the neck, tip of his clawed finger drawing a drop of blood. "One of his subjects had their vocal chords removed. You know why?"

"Because he was a sick fuck like you are?"

"To see if removing the capacity to scream increased the capacity for pain. It didn't."

Ulron's eyes meet mine when he says that, and I stare back, even as I think over what that would feel like. No, stop it. I can't think about it. That's what he wants. "You're not going to get answers if you cut out my vocal chords. So where is this going?"

Ulron laughs as if he just heard something hilarious. "You think your hands will suddenly stop working if I cut out your vocal chords?" There's another burst of laughter, and this time even the two other krogan guards join in. "Tell me where Archangel's base is and maybe you won't have to write it down instead."

I can't even bring myself to look Ulron in the eye. He's serious. But I can't tell him. Until he tries doing it for real, I have to stand firm. _Even _if he tries it for real, I have to stand firm. Whether or not I can is a whole other matter... "No." I shake my head, staring down at the ground. My shoulder suddenly tweaks from the muscle pain, causing me to grunt and arch my head up. "You cut off two fingers on my writing hand. Best you'll get is a scrawl you can't read."

"If I can write with three fingers, so can you," Ulron says darkly. "Now start talking."

I manage a scared chuckle, the sound just about managing to keep me sane as I pant in deep. Got to make him angry...even if it hurts. "Alright, I'll talk," I say. "My name's Deadpool, I like reading, long walks on the beach -"

I'm interrupted with a punch to the gut, one that leaves me spluttering and gasping for breath as blood drips out of my mouth. "Where is Archangel's base?" Ulron roars, but I feel a small victory in angering him. Even if victory tastes like my own blood in my mouth.

"I..." I cough, trying to get my breath back after the forceful punch. "I don't know."

Ulron looks ready to hit me again, but he somehow manages to get himself under control, breathing heavily. "How long have you been on Omega, human?"

I don't want to answer his questions...but he'll hurt me if I close up completely. It doesn't hurt telling him this. "Just over a year."

Ulron walks behind me, but I catch a smile on his face from me answering. "And in that year, did anyone ever tell you what happened to the last vigilante who thought he'd 'clean up the streets'?"

"No." As scared as I am of the fact I can't see Ulron, some little spark of curiosity is lit up from him saying that. "I didn't know there was anyone before us."

"You're not honestly so naive as to think that your little squad was the first, are you?" The disgust in his voice is evident.

"Then please, enlighten me," I reply, my own disgust clear too. Ulron slowly leans close to my ear, and I can feel him breathing on it, his tongue even touching the tip of it and making me yell in shock as he starts talking.

"He didn't last too long, not really enough to get a reputation," the krogan says. "Maybe about a month. He made a mistake. In the end, they all make mistakes." His tongue comes out again, and I can't avoid it. This is just him reaffirming his control. And he's right. I'm helpless. "The last one wasn't careful after an op and we got a tail on him. Tracked him all the way to his front door. It's only a matter of time before someone slips up."

"And then what?" I ask, trying to keep the story going.

"We waited till he left and set charges in his house. Took out the whole block when he walked through his front door," Ulron says calmly. "Is 'saving' civilians really worth it when your actions will get a whole bunch of them killed?"

I mentally flinch as he says that, trying not to think about the dead batarians back at the auction house. "You can't save everyone," I finally say. Just like Gavorn. I tried to save him, and now we're both here...and leaving Garrus for the slaves didn't help with this mess either.

"But people like you take it personally," Ulron says, his voice oozing satisfaction. He knows he's sit a soft spot. "Tell me, how many innocents have died because of you?" I stay silent. "Not feeling talkative now?" He walks back around in front of me, grinning, and chills run through me again. "The batarians have really good ways to get their prisoners to talk. Salarians are cruel... but batarians..." He barks a short laugh.

Again, I stay quiet, but I'm getting more and more scared. There hasn't been violence in a while, and anticipation is killing me. I'm terrified of what might be coming up. All ideas of witty retorts are gone, all heroic notions of resistance, and suddenly I'm just a twenty-two year old man being tortured by people who know that I'm going to break. Ulron's grin shows he's thinking the exact same thing. He's firmly in control.

"Do you know what batarians do to those they capture for slaves?" He walks up to me and strokes a finger down the back of my neck, drawing a little blood. "They implant them with behavioral conditioning chips." He stabs the spot for emphasis, making me grunt. "But that's only _after _they've broken them." Ulron pauses to stare at me. "Do you know what happens to the broken ones?"

I just shake my head. "No."

His mouth stretches wide at my response. "They're _used_ in truly brutal fashions. Made to do things that would make a vorcha cry. They sit in their cages and beg for their master's attention. Whatever they used to be is forgotten because the chip doesn't let them remember." He stops again, this time looking thoughtful as his evil smile grows. "After the last vigilante, civilians rose up in support of him, trying to be like him... resurrect his memory. The ones that didn't end up dead, ended up slaves."

I can only stare down at the floor now, shaking. "Spare me the horror stories." It's supposed to be a show of resistance from me, but it ends up coming out like a plea.

"Keep refusing, and everyone of those horror stories will come true," Ulron says to me. "How many deaths do you want to be responsible for?" He pauses to let me think it over, let me know everything's on me. "Keep refusing, and we'll hand you over to the batarians. They'll have you grovelling at their feet in no time. Everyone will know about the slave named Deadpool, and they'll see him begging to appease his masters." I'm trying to keep it together as the thoughts push themselves into my head, about all the people I could get killed with my continued resistance. The batarians would break me, and we'd all be worse off. I'm just delaying the inevitable. "But if you tell me where the base is," Ulron adds softly, "your squad will die quick deaths instead of being handed over to batarian slavers."

It's better. I choose between breaking for Ulron or breaking for the batarians. Everything becomes ten times worse with the latter option. "And what about me?"

"We keep you here, with us. No chip," Ulron says. "If I wanted someone to grovel at my feet, I've got vorcha to wipe my ass." He looks at me, and his eyes flash like a man who knows he's won. "Now, where is Archangel's base?"

"I don't know." I'm barely able to say it now. Whatever I try to distract myself with, all I can think of is the batarians taking me, getting their hands on Garrus and the others...I just need to tell them, and that can be avoided. I can find some small peace in the fact I spared them that.

Ulron presses me up on the machine, making my limbs scream out again. "I think you do know the location of the base." He heaves me even higher, and I can barely see his face my eyes are watering so much. "So you're gonna tell me where it is." He pushes up once more, and I feel like my limbs are gonna be tugged out of their sockets "Now."

"I think we both know I don't," I croak. I don't know where I'm getting this resistance from. And it's futile... "Even if I did, I won't betray them."

Ulron brings his body next to mine, then slams me back into the machine. I've got no breath left to lose as my back hits the wall. "You will. Besides, what do you think your squad will do when I broadcast your picture across Omega?"

"They...they'll find you." I pant. I want him to make the broadcast, almost. At least that gives me a chance of being rescued. "They'll tear you apart."

"I don't know about that. Because I'm gonna broadcast your betrayal to the entire station when you break." He grins even wider. "You think they'll come to save you? They'll come to kill you."

I shake my head desperately. He has to be lying. "No they won't. They'll know you got to me."

"They'll know they were wrong to trust you."

"But I haven't even broken!" I hiss. "I haven't betrayed them, I haven't told you where the base is!"

"But you have proven that you know where it is." Ulron lets go of me, letting me hang in the machine as I realise he just played me. He knows I know. Any hope dies with that thought. "So I'm going to ask one more time: where is it?"

I don't say anything. There's no point anymore. "Wrong again," Ulron grunts, walking to the device and readying himself to crank it, flexing the machinery on my muscles. "How many more times do you think we can crank that before your limbs start to tear themselves away from your body? Once? Twice?" He lets go, walking back to me and leaning in with a growl. "Tell me the location." I'm sobbing now, but he grabs me by the throat and applies pressure. Enough for me to go into full on panic, unable to think of anything but being handed to the batarians, my limbs ripped off, the squad given a fate worse than death... "The location!" Ulron roars. "Or we rip you apart and let the batarians do this for us!"

"The house across the bridge in the Tercvara district!"

The words are out before I can stop them, but shock and a cold feeling settle across my body when I realise what I said, and Ulron pulls away, smiling with his success. I broke. I...I sold them out. Ulron spits at me, turning away. "I knew you were weak." I slump my head as the spit lands on my face, not even trying to flinch away. This is what I deserve. "Krogan never break, only cowards do." I feel my restraints loosening, and I collapse out of them, falling to the floor without the strength to do anything as Ulron keeps talking. "Get him cleaned up. I want him up front and center when we corner Archangel and his squad." A scaled hand reaches down and grabs me by the neck, hoisting me to my feet to stand in front of Ulron. "Let them know exactly who betrayed them as they die."

"Just kill me," I say, as the pain that filled my muscles begins to die away, despite their ache. It's not a relief. It's a reminder that pain is temporary, but it broke me. Pain and threats. I can't bear for the squad to see me. Anyone to see me. Ulron's right. I'm a weak coward.

"I only kill people worth my time," Ulron mutters. "You'll be around long after your squad is dead. The Blood Pack pet, Deadpool. Everyone will know what happened to you. Every day will be a reminder. We'll drag you through the streets in your armor, and everyone will see you as a broken shell. You're gonna wish every day to end your life, but we'll make sure that never happens." His hand wraps around my throat, and he smiles, his face terrifying as he holds me up to it. "Welcome to the Blood Pack, human. This is how we do justice."

Then he explodes. One second he's holding me, the next he's turned to soup, a hazy biotic aura replacing where he was standing. I drop to the floor, groaning as I crack my head off the surface, but from my prone position I can see the two other krogan going for their shotguns. Both get warped at the same time, then a double throw detonates them with a sound like a thunderclap. They both fly backwards into the wall, the squishy noise it makes combined with blood trails suggesting they're not getting up. I crawl backwards, still panicked, looking up to see a familiar asari staring down at me with a small smirk on her face.

The same asari I have to thank for ending up in this universe in the first place.

"Shiara?"

"Yep," she says curtly, all business as she walks over to me and grabs my left arm to pick me up. It aches horribly from being stretched, but it's still just about usable, as are my legs. Adrenaline is probably hiding how bad it really is, but I'm fine with that right now. "You look like shit, Ian."

I swear, that better not be sarcasm in her voice. "What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, still scarcely believing I've been rescued at all, never mind by her. Even if being rescued doesn't change the fact I broke. Ulron might not be going anywhere with that information, but he got me to betray the squad. I know that I have a definite breaking point.

"Keeping an eye on you," Shiara replies, smiling at my confused expression. She doesn't look at all bothered by the fact I've just been horribly tortured, though I suppose she never was one for sympathy. The important thing is that I'm out. "And it looks like a good thing I have been."

"I told you to leave me alone, remember?" I say, my voice croaky and scratchy from what I've been through. If this was anyone else, I'd be thanking them and throwing myself into their arms, but I'm not letting Shiara get that kind of control over me again. I told her as much after Saren got away.  
"Right," she says sarcastically, folding her arms. "And if I'd done that, Garrus and all your vigilante friends would be dead, and you'd be stuck here sucking off krogan until they got bored of you."

"You're a lot less friendly now you don't control me, you know that?" I say, stepping towards the exit and clenching my teeth at the bolts of pain that shoot through my legs. I want to just curl up, cry and pass out right now, but I can't. Being rescued has given me some temporary second wind.

Shiara looks around the room at the dead krogan and torture machinery for emphasis. "Saving your life isn't a friendly gesture?"

"It gives me enough incentive to actually talk to you," I mutter. As grateful as I am for being saved, her insistence on following canon isn't an agenda I plan on signing up with again. It looks like she hasn't let it go, either. "Though now that I think about it, not stepping in would've got Garrus and I killed, and that would've fucked up the plotline, wouldn't it?"

"I think even you'd agree that's too big a change," Shiara snaps. I want to spit something back myself, when I suddenly remember something, now my mind is beginning to revert back to normal with my captors dead.

"Preitor Gavorn," I say, knowing she'll know who that is. She melded with me all the way back when this started, shares my knowledge of the ME games. And since I always did like Gavorn, she'll have picked up on him. "He's in here too, did you-"

"He had five vorcha tearing his plates off," Shiara says, and even she looks disturbed by that. "I stopped them. He's missing a few plates, but he'll be fine. I left him outside the room to recover. It's not like there's anyone left in this base to get to him."

I look at her, my eyes widening as she says that. "You cleared out a Blood Pack base by yourself?"

"I never ran into more than three people at a time," she shrugs. "Don't underestimate a biotic with hundreds of years experience." I'm not sure how to reply to that, so a small silence settles on us. I'm still shivering from the beating and fear I've dealt with, and my missing fingers feel even more conspicuous now they're gone, throbbing away even as I instinctively try and curl them, just moving my stumps instead. "They stored your fingers in ice," Shiara says, looking at my hand calmly and holding up a small case that she had stored in the pocket of her armour. Which presumably has my two digits in it. "Probably wanted to sell them off."

"That was thoughtful of them," I grunt, walking out to the room's exit as she follows next to me. I need to get out of this torture room. The whitewashed corridors of the Blood Pack base aren't exactly welcoming, but they're far better than the alternative as we walk out and the door mercifully shuts behind us. I wish I could seal off what happened in there as easily. Nestled within me, there's the capacity to betray. "How long have you been watching me?" I ask, as she takes off to our left, presumably to get back to Gavorn.

"Since you told me to stop watching you," she says, and I can almost hear the smile on her face. "Through hacked communications, surveillance cameras, whatever I could get. The rest I did on foot."

"You didn't want me doing anything you wouldn't approve of?"

"You've done plenty of that," Shiara sighs. Yeah…everything with Evan and the Ascension book that we fucked up probably fits in there. "I like knowing what it is you're doing."

"That's not creepy at all," I say under my breath.

"Too bad that krogan didn't knock the sarcasm out of you," Shiara mutters, painfully reminding me that Ulron did actually manage that. I'm shocked by how normal I feel now that I've been rescued, most likely because I'm still in shock from the whole thing. Right now, survival instinct is screaming at me to get out of here. Processing what happened is secondary. "But creepy or not, I wanted to make sure you couldn't screw things up any more than we could avoid. Like putting your identity on the line with Aria for Maelstrom bombs."

She probably hacked into Aria's communications to get that. Or she's got a pipeline of cash going to the Shadow Broker to get as many updates on me as she can. Either way, I shouldn't be surprised Shiara knows about my identity and the Maelstroms.

"So I found myself wondering," she continues. "Why would you be leaving the squad and the base behind in a time like this? Disapproval with how Garrus handled the auction house?"

I turn my head to face her, feeling a burning anger despite the pain running through my limbs. "What're you trying to pull here, Shiara?" I ask, my voice coming out as plain tired rather than furious. At least I knew what Ulron was trying to get out of me, but with Shiara…it's a constant mystery. "I left because I was getting in the way."

"That doesn't sound like the Ian Shaw I remember," she says bluntly. "The thought of getting in people's way never even crossed your mind before, mainly because you were so confident in your self-righteousness."

"Well, we haven't talked in two years," I snap. "You barely knew me back then, so I don't see why you'd expect to know me now."

"A good point," she admits. "I'm still surprised you're leaving Garrus, though. What happened to hero worship?"

"He's not infallible," I reply.

"And you are?"

"Did I say that?" I ask rhetorically. Right now, after that torture session with Ulron, I know I'm anything but. "I'll tell you what I told him; Omega needs people who'll get the job done, not idealists."

"Again, a good point," Shiara shrugs, and her calmness is growing extremely irritating. I'm not tied to a torture machine, but it doesn't mean she's not in a similar position to Ulron right now. "But he won't get the information he needs to get the Maelstroms unless you help him."

I chuckle cynically, rolling my eyes. "Big assumption there." Shiara reaches into her clothing, pulling out an OSD and stopping in the corridor, before handing it to me. "This is…"

"Something that you could find useful," she says.

"Great," I nod, pushing the OSD back into her hand. "I'll give you Garrus' omni-tool address, and you send it over to him."

She shakes her head patronisingly. "Your tech expert has your omni-tools specced to ignore any mail from addresses not in your contact list. Garrus doesn't have my contact information. Besides, it's an OSD. I can't send a physical object via my omni-tool."

Goddammit… "Shiara, right now, I need medical attention, and I need to get off Omega. If this information is vital to keeping our identities secret, you'll get it to Garrus yourself."

"And you need me to get you to that medical attention," she points out. "I'm dropping you back at the base. Give the OSD to Garrus there. After they fix you up, you can leave. But you'll leave the squad weakened. Make it easier for the mercs."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask, trying not to let the aches and throbs of my body show on my face as I stare at Shiara.

"You've seen what they do," she says, looking me up and down. "You want to run away from stopping them?" That question stops me from a snippy comeback. She…has a point. Shiara being Shiara, there's going to be ulterior motives behind this. But it's a good question. With every patrol they can't cover without me…one torture like this could happen. The batarians could land themselves more innocent slaves. I know how hopeless it felt on that torture machine, praying someone would save me. On Omega, the people are relying on us being there for them.

Leaving is abandoning them. After going through this…I can't abandon people in my situation. I snatch the OSD out of her hand again, trying not to think about it as I stuff it into my bloodied and torn jean pockets. "Don't give me that fucking smile," I growl, looking away from her smug grin. "This doesn't change things between us."

"Of course not," Shiara says, as we continue on, rounding a corner…and there's Gavorn, sat with his back against the wall. He looks even worse than me, but since he was left with the vorcha, that's no surprise. His right mandible's been torn off, and his bare torso has at least ten areas of plating missing, raw flesh and blue blood showing underneath. But still, he manages to give Shiara and I a weak smile as we see him, even if he gives a flanged gasp of pain for doing it.

"You should see the other guys," he says to me, grunting as Shiara pulls him up. I feel a huge bloom of relief that he's alive, that at least I didn't manage to fuck one thing up…though now he knows I'm Deadpool. Ah. "Is she a friend of yours, Deadpool?" He looks at Shiara when he says that, making her grin.

"I have no idea," I reply honestly, as the asari chuckles and leads the two of us off through the corridors. Gavorn and I aren't moving quickly, but Shiara doesn't seem to have been lying about clearing out the entire base. Every turn leads us to another two or three vorcha and krogan corpses. At least getting to Gavorn stops Shiara making references to me not belonging in the MEverse.

"So," Gavorn gasps, after about two minutes of us limping through the base, "you're Deadpool."

"Is that a problem?" I ask.

"If you'd asked me before a few hours ago, I might have said yes," he mutters. I can hear the sound of Omega nearby, cars flying past, gunfire and shouting. The outside world. True enough, one last left turn lets us emerge into the lobby, with plenty of bullet holes and dead krogan in it. Shiara obviously took the front door…but I can see an unmarked cruiser parked right outside the doors. Our ride out of here.

"But I'm asking you now," I say, as the three of us head outside. The air on my face, as artificial as it is, still gives me this huge sense of freedom as I breathe it in. For now, the sheer euphoria of freedom is helping mask the guilt I've got about breaking and betraying the squad.

Gavorn looks at me carefully as we all climb into the cruiser, Shiara at the wheel, and we pull away as I press my head back against the seat and let out a huge sigh. "You helped to save my life," he finally says. "So you're alright with me. Might even be enough for me to owe you a drink."

I don't have the energy for a thank you, just giving him a nod of respect. "Which clinic do you need dropped off at?" Shiara asks, turning her head to look at the turian.

"Just get me to Afterlife," he says. "I can take things from there."

From there, things are a blur. My eyes droop shut a few seconds after Gavorn says that, and I must have drifted unconscious, because the next thing I feel is Shiara shaking me as the cruiser stops moving, and I look around to see the familiar surroundings of the Tercvara district. Shiara's touched down about a hundred metres from the bridge, meaning it'll look like I've arrived by myself. All the adrenaline I had has worn off, leaving me aching, barely able to sit up in my seat as she pops the cruiser doors and hands me the case with my fingers in.

"Remember the OSD," she says to me. "And try not to die on the way over." She doesn't even give me a chance for a thank you, lifting the cruiser up and pulling away, leaving me with the horrible sensation that I've been used. But being used is better than being captured by the Blood Pack.

I look across the bridge at the base, suddenly getting a feeling of trepidation as I do. I sold them out. It might not have mattered for anything, but I know I did it. And now I have to go and face them. Some'll probably be feeling jubilation I'm back, others surprise…none of them knowing what I did. The thought of that makes me want to turn around and leave.

But I need a medic. The next clinic is too far for me to walk in this state. And Omega needs me here. So I slowly start walking back, my arms hanging loose and useless at my sides from their stretching, legs barely carrying me through exhaustion and pain. I have to stop a couple of times without the adrenaline rush carrying me, but eventually I limp up to the front door, unlocking it and walking inside. Most of the squad are gathered in the front room, and everyone looks like they've seen a ghost as they turn around and stare at me; battered, covered in blood, and with a weak smile on my face.

"I'm back," I say. Then I fall forward, and pass out.

##############

It's not a good sleep. No visions, but I wish there were. Flitting between the batarians in the cage exploding, Ulron's knife swinging down on my fingers as the krogan laughs, his fist pounding into my stomach, the fact of the varren pinning me down and growling, the krogan's voice continually mocking me for being weak. For breaking. There's no respite, the same scenes playing over and over again, brighter and louder, until finally I'm the one in the cage, seeing myself looking in as the collar around my neck beeps…

Then it's over, consciousness assailing me with the raw feelings of the beating I took. I blink, my head pounding and limbs aching as I see something blue and scaly standing over me. I blink again, this time seeing Monteague giving me a smile as I groan and lift my right hand to my head, clutching at my skull. "Ah, good, you're up," Monteague says, gently grabbing my hand and pushing it back down where it was lying. "Careful with your movements. How are you feeling?"

"Awful," I moan, experimentally trying to flex my muscles across my body. They ache…but not as much as they did once I was out of the machine. Nothing feels torn anymore.

"Well, I'm not surprised," the drell chuckles. "You came in with strained muscles, several tears, abdominal bruising, severed fingers, a stab wound in your chest scar, cuts along your right arm, varren claw and teeth markings, and a puncture wound on the back of your neck that appears to be of krogan origin." Fucking hell… "So, I believe that's a new record for you," he says, smiling at me. "Congratulations."

I groan again in response, accidentally knocking my right hand off the end of the bed. It makes me clench my fist instinctively…which is when I realise there's something different. Despite feeling awkward to use, my little and ring fingers clench along with my other digits, as I stare at them in wonder. "We found you carrying them, so I thought I should put them back on," Monteague explains. "As for your other injuries, you've had a lot of muscle weave, so you're going to be feeling tender for a few hours. I've cleaned your cuts, sewn up what I can, and made sure you've got no internal damage, which appears to be a minor miracle."

"You did ask Arashu to watch over me when I left," I say, coughing out a chuckle and reaching for the glass of water next to my medbay bed. Everything still hurts…but hurts less. Enough for me to use with only slight discomfort, anyway. I eagerly glug down the whole glass, making Monteague grin as he refills it for me.

"That I did," he nods. "Though perhaps she could have done a little more. What happened to you?"

I look into the drell's deep, dark eyes, debating what to say. I'm happy to see Monteague again. Incredibly happy. But now I'm away from Ulron…I still feel ashamed. I don't want to tell him I broke. That I betrayed him and everyone else. Everything else is fine. "I had to make a detour because of gang activity and wound up in Blood Pack territory," I explain. I've not got the energy to give him the full story, so he'll have to settle for an abridged version. "Long story short, a load of vorcha and their krogan commanders cornered me and took me captive. Once they saw my armour in the case, they…interrogated me."

"Ah," Monteague says quietly. "That does explain your condition." The same concerned look he gave me before I left the squad comes back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I say quickly. Just thinking about the damn thing is bringing back those feelings of helplessness and weakness. "I'm out. That's the important thing."

"Of course," Monteague nods, but he gives my hand a little squeeze as I reach for another drink. I smile back at the gesture, sipping my water while he continues talking. "Everyone's happy to see you back, you'll be pleased to hear. Not pleased with your condition, but pleased to have you. Garrus and Melanis have both already sworn revenge on whoever did this to you."

"That's nice of them," I chuckle, throat feeling a bit better now I've drank. Joking with Monteague helps keep my mind off feeling guilty, so I ought to stick with it.

"Indeed," he nods. "I believe the whole squad has asked me how you are, actually."

"Even Weaver and Sidonis?" I ask.

"Even them," Monteague replies. "Sidonis seemed notably uncomfortable when he did. As if he was embarrassed."

"Yeah, that makes sense," I mutter, thinking about how the two of us left things. Maybe he's feeling bad for it now.

"If you say so." Monteague gives me a knowing smile after he says that. "By the way, Melanis has insisted on waiting outside until you're discharged."

She has? That's…nice. Even if I don't want to face her right now. Of all the people I'm going to feel guilty with, it's a toss up between Melanis and Garrus. "Are you discharging me?" I ask.

"You still need a few hours recovery time in here before I'll let you go to your own bed," Monteague explains. "Once you adjust to the muscle weave and having your fingers back, then yes, I can let you go. I suspect Melanis would kill me if I were to deny her that."

"Alright," I nod. Hopefully Melanis will have left by then. I might feel ready to face her and the squad in the morning.

"Get some more rest, Ian," Monteague says gently, stepping away from my bed. "I'll let you know when you can leave."

"Thanks, Monteague," I say, and he gives his usual head inclination before walking out the medbay door. I sigh, resting my head back against the pillow, and close my eyes. Every time I do, I just see Ulron's face, laughing at me broken and crying in front of him, and after trying to get some sleep for about ten minutes I give up and stare at the roof.

The few hours waiting for Monteague to come back and let me out seem to stretch forever, my mind going over pretty much every moment in the torture room the second I leave it unguarded, so by the time the drell does return I'm honestly fearing what'll happen when I go to sleep and the dreams I'll have.

Monteague lets me out with a sympathetic smile after a quick physical check, during which he tells me Grundan took the OSD I had while I was unconscious and was running through the encryption. Apparently it had extremely heavy encryption, which doesn't surprise me since it came from Shiara, so Grundan will have it ready in the morning. Monteague has the sensitivity not to ask how I got it, presumably not wanting to make me remember being captured. I'll be able to fabricate a good enough lie by the morning.

It's dark in the house as I walk out the med bay, looking around for a female turian…right as Melanis rises out of the seat she's obviously carried to leave outside the room. Fuck, she's been sat here for _hours. _"Just where do you think you're going?" she asks, and I manage a weak smile as I look at her. I'm still not comfortable with the squad like this. Even Melanis. Now that I know I'm weak enough to betray them.

"To bed," I say, hoping she'll let me go. She doesn't, presumably wanting some kind of reassurance I'm alright. "What're you doing up so late?"

She returns the smile, and I feel this little tug in my heart as she does. I can't believe she waited this long... "I think you know the answer to that," Melanis says. "But I'm sorry to say I can't let you go upstairs."

I'm not back to my usual form, so my eyes narrow at her denying me access before I realise she's still trying to joke. "Why?"

"I'm not gonna let you risk getting hurt by climbing stairs or the ladder to your bunk," she says calmly, beckoning for me to follow. "So come with me."

I follow her, but I protest as I go. "Mel, seriously, you don't have to do this. Monteague says I'm physically fine after muscle weave and reattaching my fingers." Thinking about why Monteague had to do that, the knife cuts, Ulron, the machine...I try to block it out. I'm fine.

"Your protest has been noted," Melanis chuckles. "Now come on, I'm sure you must be tired." There's no point telling her otherwise. Besides, Ghost will be upstairs…and as much as I love him, I can't face a varren right now.

"Too tired to try fighting you," I sigh, walking into her room and spotting some spare bedding laid out on the floor, which I walk towards. I just need some sleep now, try and get everything back to normal...

Melanis puts out a hand to stop me, though. "Nope. That one's for me."

I turn back to look at her, feeling that tug again. "Come on, Melanis, I'm the guest in your room. There's no need for that."

"You're also the one who just got out of the med bay. And what happened to you being too tired to fight me?" She grins widely as she says that, making me shake my head, but I walk to her bed and sit down. The mattress is soft. Much softer than turians like. She must have changed it for me...

It just feels overwhelming. Going from despair about breaking, thinking Melanis and the others would die because of what I did, to having the same person I betrayed sacrificing her own comforts for me. "I...thanks," I manage, unsure of what else to say.

Melanis walks over, sitting next to me with a smile. "There's no need to thank me, Ian. It's the absolute least I could do."

"No, Mel," I say quietly, feeling almost annoyed by how flippant she is about all of this. She doesn't understand how this is making me feel. Then again, how can she without really knowing what happened? "This is more than that."

"And if it is?" she asks softly. Godammit, she cares. Even after how I left and what I've done.

"Then thank you." I look down at the ground, not trusting myself to meet her eyes. "You don't really know what that means to me at the moment."

"I'll do whatever I can to help, Ian," Melanis says gently. "Just let me know, ok?"

"I will." I keep the sentence short, lower lip starting to tremble as emotion becomes more and more overwhelming, and Melanis starts to rant next to me.

"I just can't believe the Pack would stoop so low," she growls. "I know they're supposed to be the most brutal of the big three, but there are some things I thought even they were above. Sometimes I just wish we would have gotten rid of the krogan when we had a chance. And don't even get me started on vorcha. I have no clue how those things didn't do anything worse..." She suddenly stops, and I can feel her looking at the back of my head as I try not to let the sound of tears escape me. "Ian...are you... Are you crying?"

"No," I say, desperately trying to hide the fact I started to cry while she was talking. I already showed Ulron how weak I am, I don't need to show Melanis too. "No, I..."

I feel a talon slide under my chin and turn my face towards Melanis. Seeing her face, her mandibles flexing and her eyes widened with worry, pretty much causes the floodgates to come crashing down as she pulls me into a hug. "Ian...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," she whispers. I want to focus on her smell and her strong embrace, the feeling of safety I should have, but all I can hear is Ulron mocking me for being so pathetic.

I hold onto her tightly, the feeling some small comfort which I can't let go of. "No, I'm sorry, this is weak..."

Melanis hugs me even tighter, and I can feel her mandibles brush against my cheek as she talks. "It's not. After everything you survived through, you might be the strongest person I know."

I shake my head at that, sobbing even more. I have to tell her. Having her say those things when she doesn't know the truth is tearing me apart. "No I'm not, Mel. They broke me." I manage to find a gap between tears to look up at her face, trying to see a reaction as I talk. I can take her anger. It's what I deserve. "If I hadn't got free when I did, they...they..."

Melanis talks again, her voice soft but forceful as she wipes a tear off my face with a talon. "Ian, stop. _I_ would have broken under those conditions. So there's absolutely no blame on your part. It's not weak. And the fact that you _did_ break free is nothing short of amazing."

I cling onto her when she says that, burying my head against her neck and shoulder as she starts running a hand up and down my back. _She doesn't blame me. _That fact feels like a huge weight off me, and my tears change from the ones of a broken man to ones of relief. I was broken when I thought I'd lost everyone, but I haven't. Melanis is proof of that. "I'm here, Ian. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," she whispers.  
After a while longer of the two of us sitting on the bed, arms wrapped around each other, and having Melanis hold me makes me feel...safe. Her grip loosens, and I blink my eyes open to see a hand trailing down towards my shoes, slowly removing them. "Let's get you ready for bed," she murmurs. As she says that, I cling tighter, suddenly worried she's going to leave me alone, but she reassures me with a small nuzzle. "I'm still not going anywhere. Now come on, you must be exhausted."

With that, she lies back in the bed, gently bringing me down with her, the side of my head laying on the pillow as my forehead lies touching with hers. I'm still crying, but it's gentle now, and Melanis keeps stroking down my back as I close my eyes. I can feel her body rise and fall against mine, her breath warm and reassuring, and I focus on those sensations, blocking everything else out. The blueprint location, what Ulron put me through, the absolved guilt, they all become insignificant as Melanis presses her forehead against mine more, letting me know she's here.

And right now, here is exactly where I need to be.

For one night, lying in Melanis' arms, I feel safe.

**A/N: Special thanks for this chapter and last chapter to quantumparadigm, for having far too much fun being really evil. **


	56. Ian vs The Wake Up

Chapter 56

The Fray: Munich

"_You're weak," Ulron grunts, dragging me up to my feet as he stares deep into my eyes. "Cowards break."_

_"People break," I gasp back, clawing at the hand he has closed around my throat. "There's no cowardice in reaching my limit. Anyone would have broken."_

_"That's what they like to tell you," the krogan chuckles. "But I suppose it's not your fault. Humans are born fragile, after all." He clenches his hand tighter, the lack of air making my knees buckle as he growls. "Just about strong enough to serve us, though. You'll know that once we find the rest of you." With that, he lets me go, and I drop to the floor. All the light in the cage seems to shrink away with him, his laughs ringing through the room even as the cage door clangs shut, and I run up to it, shaking the bars and yelling for him to bring the light back, to let me go, to stay away from my friends - _

My eyes fly open as my body hitches in short, panicked breaths, bathed in a cold sweat as I hover in the zone between dream and reality. It takes me a second to remember why there's a female turian cuddled up with me, why I'm sleeping in a double bed rather than a bunk, then it floods back. Melanis. She stayed with me all night. She doesn't blame me for breaking. It's alright. Even if my shaking hands say otherwise.

I unconsciously reaffirm my hold on her, taking a look at the sleeping turian curled up with her talons resting on my back. Melanis looks...peaceful. For once, with the worries of Omega out of her mind, the hardass mask she wears off her face, she looks at ease. Truly happy. Beautiful.

Then her eyes flicker from my hug, deep brown melding with her orange clan-markings as she comes to. "Morning," I say, pushing the thoughts of the nightmare out of my mind as I smile to her. The aches that plagued my body yesterday have soothed somewhat, thankfully, so I can really just focus on the turian in front of me, a feeling not dissimilar to adrenaline rising in my stomach as I do. I promised myself to let my feelings for her go, but I can't. You can't just forget you like someone.

Melanis has focused on my face now, giving me a drowsy look with her mandibles drooping. Then she lets out a small purr, the feeling of it rumbling through my body from our contact and making me grin even wider. "Morning already?" she asks, sounding tired.

I hug her close as she says that, pressing my forehead to hers. She doesn't move away. Whatever confusion she had when I left, this seems to be a large hint she's getting past it. Either that or this is some sympathy thing. "Morning doesn't mean we have to get up yet," I say. Melanis hugs me when I say that, drawing me closer to her face and her smell.

"I think I can let you sleep in for once," she says jokingly. We snuggle up together for a couple of minutes after that, just snoozing, until I bring my head up and look at her, a question forming in my mind. I think I know the answer...I just have to be sure.

"You didn't let go of me all night?"

"Never," Melanis replies firmly. The sheer strength in her reply, having her this close, feeling her purrs and talons down my back...I can't help it. After what happened to me, I can't have things unsaid like this. I stare at her for a few seconds, then slowly lean in, brushing my lips across her left mandible before kissing it gently, testing the waters once more. There's no violent reaction this time. No hard biting, no shouting. She just closes her eyes and gives a long, satisfied purr, her mandibles and cheek brushing against mine as she leans close and, ever so gently, nips the side of my neck affectionately.

"I know you were a bit...bipolar about us before I left," I say nervously, even as Melanis keeps nipping me. "But after what happened I really don't want to have regrets. I like you, Mel. A lot. I dunno what you think of me, or if this can work, or -"

She pulls back before I can finish talking, pressing her mouth plates against my lips to shut me up. We stay like that for about a minute, my hand going behind her fringe and stroking gently in an awkward but satisfying kiss, until she pulls away slightly, running a talon down the side of my face. "It wasn't very hard to figure out how you felt," she says. I guess that's a good point. "And...I feel the same way. I'm sorry it took me so long to finally admit it, but...I was afraid."

I give a small laugh, even against the euphoria bubbling up inside me. "Never thought anything would make you afraid," I say.  
Melanis returns my smile, and her mandibles run across my lips as they widen. "Strange, I know," she admits. "But I...I haven't had the best luck with people close to me."

I give her curious look, getting the feeling this is going to be...enlightening. "How do you mean?"

"My brother," she sighs. "Before I joined the squad, we worked together to take down a Suns ship parts dealer. We were on an infiltration, and he gave away his position."

"A ship parts dealer?" I ask. Of all the targets...that's a bizarre one. "Why were you after him?"

"He killed our father."

"Oh." The two of us stay silent for a bit, and I hug her closer without really thinking about what I'm doing. It just feels right. "Look, Mel, if it's making you drag all this stuff back up just to explain yourself to me, it's fine. You don't have to."

"But you deserve to know, Ian," Melanis insists. "And I _want_ you to know."

She's not someone I can persuade to stop doing something once her mind's set on it. And if Melanis really thinks telling me this will explain why she was so weird about us before I left, I'll take it. "Alright."

Melanis closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing. "When we finally found the dealer, we infiltrated his base to kill him. We succeeded, but on our way out, one of the guards managed to sneak behind me. Kaviras killed him and gave away his position."

Just like at the spaceport. I stare down at the bed, sighing. "Christ...I'm sorry, Mel, I had no idea."

"I know you didn't," she replies soothingly, touching me on the arm. "But that should explain my reaction."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does." Melanis and I were really close friends when I fired that shot that gave us away, so it must've been like the past coming back again. Getting attached to people in situations like ours is a comfort...but the risks are immense. It's too late to feel irresponsible for letting it happen now, though. The truth that we like each other is out between us, and that's not something you can just take back. "I dunno if this is entirely appropriate, but thanks. For opening up." I get the feeling there's more to this story, and Melanis herself, but I'm not pushing it. She'll tell me when the time's right.

Melanis smiles. "Like I said, you deserve to know. Especially if we want this to continue."

"I do." I press my lips up against her plates again, savouring the feeling. "I'm taking this as you wanting to as well?"

"Do you think I'd do this if I didn't?" she says, leaning in and nipping my neck again, making me giggle. We stay like that for about fifteen minutes, running our hands down each others bodies, kissing and nipping, holding each other. I've been through some awful stuff in the last twenty four hours, and we both know today is the last day we have before Aria releases our identities. Maybe this is the two of us finally showing we like each other. Maybe it's just two people trying to find some kind of resolve in each others arms before the storm breaks and overwhelms us. Whatever it is, I don't want to let it go.

I finally lean back, smiling as her talons recede from my skin. "I've got to say, it's nice getting to know you like this."

Melanis smiles back. Obviously she enjoyed herself as much as I did. "Considering the past fifteen minutes or so, I'm not surprised to hear that."

"What?" I grin wider. "You don't agree?"

"I never said that. Besides, I'm still here, right?"

I nuzzle up against her neck, then nod. "Yep. You definitely seem to be here."

"The amazing detective Shaw, always hard at work," she replies, with good-natured sarcasm.

"Screw you," I chuckle. "My C-Sec record is exemplary."

"As long as you overlook the destroyed spaceport and near-death experience."

"They were valuable learning experiences."

Melanis gives a playful growl, rolling over and pinning me to the bed. "Now that we're together, I'm allowed to win arguments like this."

As soon as she pins me, my breathing hitches. I'm trapped. Restrained, unable to move when I struggle...I can practically see Ulron looming over me, but I blink, blocking it out as I refocus on Melanis' face. It's Melanis. I like her, she likes me. I'm safe. "Remind me to argue with you way more often," I say, joking to try and regain my good nature.

"If they all end like this, I'll be a happy woman," the turian purrs. Then she grabs my arm, and starts nipping at my wrist, before slowly working her way up my arm while I just stare in amazement. Turian affection is bizarre. And really, _really _nice.

"You won't be the only one happy," I reply, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and enjoyment.

She reaches my shoulder, then stops, looking up to meet my eyes as she smiles. "I thought you might feel that way."

I smile back, but scratch my head awkwardly as I do so. "You do realise I have no idea about turian affection, right?" I say. "Asides from the whole biting thing."

"Would you like a crash course?" Melanis asks, her smile getting bigger. Mine follows suit.

"You are supposed to be my tutor..."

Wordlessly, Melanis slowly trails a talon down my chest, the tip of it rough against my skin but not unwelcome as it trails further and further downwards. I hitch in a sharp breath as it passes over my stomach, which makes the turian smile wider. Leaning down and gently nipping along the side of my neck, she picks up my hands in hers. Melanis places one in the narrow section of her waist, and the other at the base of one of her spurs, apparently waiting for something.

So...these are erogenous zones? Is that what she's getting at? I experimentally try sliding my left hand around her waist, while the other strokes up and down her right spur. The purring noise she lets out suggests I was right in my erogenous zone conclusion, so I keep the movements going, feeling bolder now I understand what it is she wants.

I feel her teeth recede from my skin, and Melanis pulls back, staring down at me deviously as she gives a low purr. She seems fairly happy biting me, so I wonder... I put both hands up to her waist, rolling us over, even though that just has me lying on top of her at chest level. With a small chuckle, Melanis slides me up her body to her face, talons pressed against my back. Her chest spur digs into my chest, but it's only a tiny discomfort, and the fact it lets me lean in and start nipping across the side of her neck myself means it's more than worthwhile.

Melanis lets out a growl as I bite across her surprisingly leathery, unplated skin, and I feel her talons beginning to dig into my back as I continue. It's not enough to break skin, but hard enough to make me gasp as her talons scrape down my back.

I hook my ankle around her left spur, rubbing up and down gently as I turn the bites into kisses, running up her neck, then her right mandible, then finally up to her mouth plates. I'm surprised to feel her mouth open, her long, thin tongue pushing at my lips until they give and she rolls us onto our sides again, holding each other as she manages to literally wrap her tongue around part of mine.

We kiss like that for a minute until she pulls away, leaving a metallic taste in my mouth as she does. My mouth feels a little numb from the dextro-levo reaction, but it's not bad, and I'm barely focusing on it as Melanis slowly draws her tongue back into her mouth. It's blue, about half as wide as a human one but at least twice as long, and apparently quite flexible from that little demonstration. It's a pretty big reminder that I'm cuddling and kissing an alien. It's not a reminder that particularly bothers me.

"You know we're eventually gonna have to get up," Melanis says. I groan in reply, rolling over sleepily. I don't want to get up. I just want to be with her right now. Facing the others seems like too big a prospect for me to deal with. "C'mon sleepy head. You can't stay in bed forever."

"You want to bet on that?" I ask, my tone coming out snappier than what I wanted it to.

Melanis gives me a curious look for it, sounding somewhat hesitant as she talks. "Are you feeling okay, Ian? Don't you want to see everyone?"

"Uh...sure, I guess," I say, unable to meet her eyes as I do. It sounds bad that I don't want to, so I don't really want to admit that to her. The others are just gonna ask about what happened to me, which isn't what I want to talk about at all.

"Is this about what happened after you left?" Melanis asks, making me narrow my eyes. Goddammit, now she's bringing it up too...

"I'm just not in much a people mood right now," I reply, sounding as angry as I feel.

"Alright, I understand that," she says. "But don't you think the others would like to know you're alright?"

"Then I'll stick my head in and show them I'm still in one piece," I say bluntly. "Doesn't mean I want an in-depth conversation with everyone."

"You don't need to have an in-depth conversation with them, but they're your friends."

"I know, Mel!" I snap, glaring at her as anger suddenly rises in me.

Melanis stays infuriatingly calm, though. "Alright Ian, I'll go tell them that you're feeling better. But could you at least _try_ to put some effort into getting out of bed?" The last part gets said with a smile, and I can feel my anger receding as quickly as it came on. As long as she's not forcing me to go and see everyone, then we're fine.

I sit up on my elbows, managing a little smile back. "For you, I guess. I should probably go and get a shower before I stink up your bed. And before Laet and Monteague get in there. They're always really touchy about other people being around."

"Yes they are," Melanis laughs. "And a shower seems like a good idea." A small grin slips onto her face as she says that. "Maybe I'll join you."

I can feel myself blushing furiously as I stumble for a reply. "I, uh...wow. That's awfully forward of you." Not unwelcome...just forward.

"Oh, right," she says, smiling wider. "I almost forgot how embarrassed humans could get over an act as simple as showering."

"What, turians just hop in showers together?"

"Well, seeing as turians don't have outward sexual characteristics, it makes things simpler," she shrugs. "Nudity isn't the taboo it is in human culture."

"Okay," I finally say, after much deliberation about how to respond to that. Still, it makes sense. Communal showers mean I've seen pretty much every squad member in there at least once, and she's not lying about no outward characteristics on turians. "Good to know. And that explains why the others never seem bothered about communal showers. But still...humans have outward sexual characteristics. It's a bit awkward for us to go in together. At least right now."

"It's not like I haven't seen most of you anyway during training sessions," Melanis chuckles.

"Most," I say. "Keyword is most."

"Fine," Melanis says, perpetual smile still on her face. "I suppose I can accept your human concerns. For now."

"So you'll only accept my concerns temporarily?" I ask, grinning back.

"I'll give you a while to warm up to the idea."

"And I'll be sure to let you know when I do." I lean forward to Melanis, giving her a quick kiss again as I get out of bed.

"You better," she purrs, after we break apart. "Now if you want to reach the shower before Laet and Monteague, you'd better hurry. I'll let the others know that you're okay."

I yawn as I get to my feet, only feeling a light pain in my muscles as I do. The shower should sort that out. "Thanks." I'm about to walk out, when something crosses my mind. "Oh, and, uh...does this change my sleeping arrangements at all? You know. Now that this is a thing."

"What do you think?" Melanis chuckles.

"I don't know," I say, with an innocent smile. "Hence asking the question."

Melanis rolls her eyes, still laughing. "Grab your things when you're done showering." Her mandibles widen in a grin. "I still don't trust you getting up to your bunk."

"Oh, of course," I say, rolling my eyes too, but I'm laughing as I walk out of her room, quickly peeking around to see if anyone else is awake. Laet and Monteague are in the kitchen, apparently having already showered, but I can't see anyone else. It's easy enough to slip past the turian and drell into the dormitory, and from there grabbing my towel and clothes between the dozing crew members is fine. From there, it's a quick walk down to the showers, as I leave my clothes in the changing room and strip off for the shower.

I catch a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror before I walk in, then double take. I'm covered in bruises and scratches. Huge blue marks on my stomach from Ulron's punches, on my arms and legs from where I was tugged, scratches from krogan and varren claws dotted around my body in a seemingly random pattern. I only stare for a few seconds before looking away, shuddering to myself as I step into the shower. I don't need any more reminders. Nightmares are bad enough.

I indulge myself in the shower for fifteen minutes, pushing thoughts of Ulron out of my mind by considering whether or not I should've taken Melanis up on her offer of showering with me, which means by the time I'm out I'm feeling better. I quickly get dressed, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror, before striding out into the corridor and towards the kitchen to fix myself something to eat. After that, I'm going to see Garrus...and just avoid the squad. Maybe hide in Melanis' room. I need the time to myself.

My usual place at the breakfast table already has a bowl of cereal, some toast and a mug of coffee at it, making me glance around in surprise. Laet and Monteague have left the kitchen, so there's no-one here except me. The only other person I know got up is Melanis...

She made me breakfast.

I chuckle to myself, sitting down as I start to tuck in. She never ceases to surprise me. It's really well made, too. The toast is buttered to perfection, just the right amount of milk on the cereal, and a really well done coffee. Presumably skills she picked up from her time on Earth, and I'm certainly not complaining she's had that experience. I'll have to repay the favour to her someday.

"Nae wonder you're a skinny guy, Shaw," a familiar Scottish voice says, as Butler walks into the kitchen, making me sigh. I can deal with him. Just got to eat quickly, then I can go and see Garrus. "Where's the meat on that plate?"

"I'm not much of a carnivore at breakfast time," I shrug, glancing around to see the Scot equipping himself with a frying pan, eggs, bacon, sausages and tomatoes. "Oh, wow, tomatoes. That's uncharacteristically healthy."

"Probably not when I fry them with this much meat and oil," he chuckles, and I hear the sounds of a fry-up beginning as I turn back to my toast, cereal now finished. "How're you holding up? I didnae hear good things about what happened when you left." Oh, here we go...this is why I wanted to avoid people. Obviously Melanis' "he's fine" message hasn't sunk in that well. Maybe repeating myself will do it.

"I'm fine," I mutter, quickly cramming the toast into my mouth so I have an excuse to leave. "Still breathing, anyway."

"Aye, but still. Everyone's worried about you," Butler says. "We're gonnae get the Blood Pack back for this. You helped me with Ripard, I'll help you with them."

"That's really great and all," I say, feeling my patience wear thin with the insistent reminders of the Blood Pack and what happened. "But what would help me is if people would stop talking about it, alright?"

Butler doesn't reply immediately, obviously surprised by my little outburst as I quickly drink my coffee, ignoring the heat. "Alright," he finally nods. "I didnae mean to upset you, Shaw."

"Well, good job with that," I mutter, finishing up the coffee and rising to my feet with my plate and mug. Butler turns back to his fry-up, apparently muted as I put my things into the dishwasher and make my way up the stairs towards Garrus' room, sighing. I don't need this right now. I just want to forget, but no, apparently the others don't want to let that happen.

I reach the top of the stairs, then suddenly I'm bowled over, two paws slamming down on my shoulders and knocking me to the ground as a varren towers over me. I can hear the snapping jaws of the Blood Pack varren, dragging me to the ground, appraising me as meat, so I immediately start struggling and kick it off, clambering back up to my feet, gasping in panicked breaths.

Ghost stares back at me, letting out a small yelp from being kicked as he flattens his body down to the ground sadly. Oh, shit… "I'm sorry, Ghost," I say, walking over to the varren who cautiously backs away from me. For a second, it felt like I was back in the Blood Pack base there. And I hurt Ghost because of it. "You scared me." I reach out a hand to pet him, making him growl. "Come on, Ghosty. Please. I didn't mean to do that."

Ghost keeps growling, but he slowly moves forward towards me, cautiously pressing his head against my hand. I give it a rub, scratching a spot on the side of his head which he loves, and his growls die away as he walks over to me and nuzzles up against my side. I give him a quick hug around his neck, breathing out a sigh of relief that he's willing to forgive. I still love him. Ulron's not changing that.

I get to my feet after a minute of making up with Ghost, but as I leave, I can see Sidonis looking at me, one eye open from his bed. The two of us stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of us making a move, until I turn around and walk up to Garrus' door. I get the feeling Sidonis and I need to have a chat when I'm feeling up to it. I'm just not quite sure when that'll be.

I knock on the door, and I only have to wait for ten seconds before it opens, Garrus staring down at me in his casual wear. I'm not sure what to say to him after how things were when we left, the split between us –

Then Garrus pulls me into a hug before I can do anything, stepping into his room with me as the door shuts behind us. "It's good to see you're still in one piece," he finally says, letting me go as he steps back.

"And it's just good to see you," I reply truthfully. "Thanks for not just kicking me out as soon as I woke up in the medbay."

Garrus flexes his mandibles in a frown. "You know I'd never to do that. Even after an argument."

"Yeah…the argument," I say slowly. "You were right."

The turian looks surprised as I say that. "What?"

"I should've followed you," I say. "It would've torn me up, but I should've done it. But if our identities come out and the mercs get the upper hand back, I know I'm gonna feel even worse. Just because I can't see all the people who'll get killed or worse if that happens doesn't mean it's less important than what's right in front of my face." It's the truth. I wanted to leave Omega to maintain my morals, but leaving doesn't help anyone. It just makes the situation worse. If I have to sacrifice some of my humanity so people don't have to go through the same thing I did with Ulron, then so be it.

Garrus nods, walking up to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. "Then for what it's worth, I understand why you stayed with the slaves. I don't agree, but I understand that you wanted to be the hero."

"I still do," I say. "I guess…" I pause, struggling to put it into words. "It's not the desire to be a hero that's changed, it's the definition of what it is. Self-sacrifice to save the many, rather than trying to save everyone and getting people hurt trying to achieve an impossible task." I chuckle, rolling my eyes as I hear that back over in my head. "If that makes any sort of sense."

"It means you're back on the squad, and you're ready to go back into the field," Garrus says with a smile. "That's good enough for me." I nod as Garrus turns to his desk, picking up a datapad. "Grundan's still working on the encryption protecting that OSD you had." He looks ready to show me the datapad, but stops, rubbing a talon along a mandible curiously. "How did you get that?"

"You remember that asari I told you about who brought me here? Shiara?" I ask, and Garrus nods. "She's been following me ever since I told her to piss off back on the Citadel. And apparently got wind of our crisis with Aria, since the OSD is apparently supposed to help. Though if the others ask how I escaped, just tell them the Suns attacked the base I was being held in and I slipped out in the confusion."

"Will do. And we'll see what's on that OSD once Grundan cracks it," Garrus says, sounding pleased we actually have something concrete for once. And in the nick of time, too. Less than twenty-four hours to go, and if we don't pull something out of our collective ass by then…escaping Ulron and seeing those slaves die would've been for nothing. "We have another lead on Harga, though." Great…him. "Weaver and Butler intercepted an order from a mining company outside of Omega for slave labour, and Harga's the supplier. He'll be moving the slaves to the spaceport in the early afternoon, and we're going to be there to stop him."

"Harga doesn't have people to drive shipments for him?" I ask.

"It's Omega," Garrus replies. "That's hundreds of thousands of credits worth of cargo in the transport. Not something Harga's going to entrust to anyone but himself. Most slave dealers sort out big shipments themselves. The ones who stay in business do, anyway."

"And you're sure you want me coming along on this one after what happened at the auction house?"

Garrus pauses, staring at me for a few seconds before nodding. "Yes. You said you were back on the squad, this is a chance for you to prove it. I still trust you more than anyone else."

"And I trust you," I reply, even if the words feel kind of hollow when I say them. I do still trust Garrus with my life, of course I do. Harsh realties have really dulled the hero worship, though. I think getting back into a mission is good for me, anyway. It's that or moping around the base…and after what Ulron told me about slaving, I _really _want to dish out some justice to Harga. If what he does is anything like how batarians sort out their slaves, I'm not letting him stay in business one day longer. "When do you want me suited up?"

"Meet me at the shuttle in an hour," Garrus says. "I'll drive us to intercept him at the spaceport. Worst case, we take down a notorious slaver, and at best, we find information on the Maelstroms while we're at it. Just make sure you follow orders this time."

"Trust me," I mutter, cracking my knuckles as I walk towards his door. "I'm feeling pretty motivated to kill some krogan right now."

**A/N: Sorry this took a little longer than usual. As any veteran MtM readers will know, me being on holiday usually means the updates come slower rather than faster. Apologies again.**

**So, more Harga hunting next time around, with Ian/Melanis beginning to develop, a changing Ian, less than twenty-four hours to find some Maelstrom bombs...it's all go in the plot right now.**

**Oh, and if anyone likes Erash and is interested to read more about him, go and check out Atonement Forsaken by Fiery Hawk79. It delves much, much deeper into Erash's past than I ever could in MtM3.**

**Thank you very much for reading (I know there haven't been many A/Ns recently for increased tension after chapters), and I'll see you next time!**


	57. Ian vs The Fuel Canister

Chapter 57

30 Seconds to Mars: Night of the Hunter

**A/N: I can't remember if I mentioned this in chapter 55 or not, but Shiara liberated Ian's gear from the Blood Pack while they were escaping. If I didn't mention it, then apologies, I'll retcon it later.**

**October 15th, 2185  
****12:24pm, Omega time  
****Archangel's hideout**

I clip up my armour in the corner of Melanis' room, sliding the helmet up and over my face as I check it in her mirror. The Blood Pack don't seem to have inflicted any damage to it while it was in their possession, as the paint scratches and varren gouge were all picked up before I left for the spaceport. Still, donning it now makes me feel some kind of trepidation, like the first time I got suited out for a combat situation on the Normandy.

It might be the fact that, if Shiara's OSD comes to nothing, Harga's our last chance to corner these Maelstroms. Even if I was on the peak of my game, that would be a hell of a lot of pressure, and the truth is I'm definitely not on top form. I'm still stressing with every tiny thing reminding me of Ulron. I still don't want to talk to the squad, at least until they decide to stop asking how I bloody feel. Part of me is on the mission to get information on the Maelstroms, prove myself to Garrus and stop a major slave trafficker. The other part just wants to see Harga dead for what he's done. It's the only justice Omega has, and I'm making sure he gets brought to that justice today.

I check my silenced Predator on my hip, then the HVB and Mantis sniper rifle on my back, then quickly practice pulling my handgun out and switching weapons as fluidly as I can. They're as smooth as they've ever been, which four years of muscle memory pretty much guaranteed. Physically, Monteague's been a miracle worker. A hundred and seventy years of medical advancements make sure of that.

That's the weird part, though. To look at me, you'd have no idea what I've been through these past couple of days. On the outside, I look totally fine, and I don't feel like talking about the inside. I sigh, holstering my weapons, lowering my helmet and taking one last look at myself in the mirror. "Showtime," I mutter, managing a fake smile as I turn to Melanis' door and open it up. I'm not, however, expecting to see Sidonis standing outside, wringing his hands together.

"Shaw," he says. "Good. I was hoping to find you here."

"What do you want, Sidonis?" I ask impatiently, remembering how things were when I left between us. "I didn't think you had time for someone who dodges responsibility like me."

He blinks in surprise at the blunt answer, then clicks his mandibles nervously. "I didn't come to apologise for what I said, because I meant it," he says. "I just wanted to say it's good to see you back. And that I'm sorry you leaving got you…well, you know better than I do."

"Yep, I do," I reply, brushing past him. "And I've had enough sympathy to last me a lifetime, so if you don't mind, I've got a mission to get to."

"And I'm sorry for being a hypocrite," he calls out after me, making me stop and turn around to look at him again.

"Sidonis, what the fuck are you talking about?" I ask, sighing. As much as I want this conversation to end, I can't walk off when he says something cryptic like that.

"I got angry for you at dodging responsibility," he says, keeping his voice calm as he walks back toward me. "That's why I'm on Omega in the first place."

"So you want me to forgive what you said because you have some dark past I didn't know about?" I say sarcastically.

"I told you, I meant what I said," Sidonis replies, and there's a hint of a growl in his voice. "I'm just not someone in the best position to say that. And no, it's not some dark past, _actually_. When I was in the military, they wanted to promote me once I finished my compulsory service. An officer in charge of a group of ten men. I turned them down and came here to look at doing something good with what they taught me, got disgusted by what I saw from the merc groups. I ran into Garrus in Afterlife, we got talking, and after a few drinks together confirmed I was against them just as much as he was, we decided it'd be a good idea to join up."

Now that the topic's away from Ulron, I'm feeling a bit calmer. Enough to continue this conversation for a few minutes more, anyway, especially now the revelation that Sidonis was one of the founding members of the squad has come out. Still, with the message I sent to Garrus, at least he's not going to be able to betray what he started. "You didn't stick with the military?" I ask. "Not very turian of you."

"I would have, but they insisted on the promotion," Sidonis mutters, sounding insulted. "I know myself too well to be in charge of a group of soldiers. I'm too much of a self-preservationist to be a good leader."

"Wow, you did dodge that," I say, letting out a wry chuckle. "You weren't lying about the hypocrite thing."

"Just because I did it doesn't make it right," Sidonis snaps. "It's not an excuse. What you did was wrong."

"Well, I'm back again," I say, shrugging. "I'm ready to do my job, like you said. So I guess we don't have any problems, do we?"

"Nope," the turian growls. "No problems at all." He stalks off towards the kitchen, leaving me to stand there and think about that conversation. That was dickish of me, but for once, I'm not feeling too bothered as I walk towards the garage. Maybe I'll go and apologise to him at some point. Or maybe not.

Garrus is already waiting for me as I reach the skycar, tapping his foot against the ground with his helmet up. "We need to intercept Harga before he gets to the spaceport, not after he's been and gone," Garrus says brusquely, as the two of us climb inside.

"I'm still five minutes earlier than you asked," I point out. "You've probably only been standing there for a minute."

"Two minutes, actually," he replies with a smile, making me give a genuine laugh as he takes off, and we accelerate away into the lanes of traffic, towards Harga's drop off point. Time to get some answers.

##########

Garrus and I don't talk all that much on the way over, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I imagine Garrus is thinking over what we're going to do once we have Harga cornered, how best to get information out of him, and those thoughts pretty much mirror my own. Ulron said krogan don't break. I don't quite believe that, but I believe that he won't break within the twelve or so hours we have left.

Which makes me wonder what the point of this trip is, now that I think about it. We're not going to be able to get any information out of Harga that he doesn't want to give us, which means as far as the Malestroms are concerned, really he's a dead end. All we're getting out of this is his death.

I look over at Garrus, whose helmeted head is looking out at our lane of traffic, and I can imagine the determined look on his face. I decide not to tell him that this mission is pointless for the Maelstroms. He probably knows that himself, and just came to take care of a loose end before Grundan decrypts the OSD, or everything goes to hell. I'm feeling fine with that right now. Stopping a notorious slaver is better than that, even if the pretence we're doing it under is a total fabrication.

"We should be getting to the spaceport in five minutes," Garrus says, drawing my attention back to the buildings and cars zipping past us. "Let's see what Harga has to say about those Maelstroms when he sees us there."

"Right," I nod. Garrus isn't even going to admit to me that he knows we're not going to be getting anything out of Harga. Probably assuming I'll disapprove. Well, he's in for a surprise. "I assume you're going with the piñata approach to interrogation?"

Garrus turns his head, cocking it to the side. "What?"

"Whack 'em with a blunt instrument until what you need to know comes tumbling out," I mutter. The irony of me taking that approach with a krogan isn't lost on me.

"I…guess we'll see when we get there," he replies, sounding surprised at me. "We'll see if we can secure the slaves too. Don't want his contact to pick them up."

Now it's my turn to be surprised as I look at the turian. "I thought Harga was the main concern."

"He is," Garrus nods. "But that doesn't mean we stop giving a damn about the slaves." I settle back in my seat as he says that, smiling to myself under the helmet. At least we can agree on that. Wanting to kill Harga hasn't made him lose sight of the innocents involved too. They're just…secondary. I'm still not comfortable with that concept, but if Harga was the secondary target and gets away, that's countless others who'll become slaves. Thinking longer term sucks.

I let my vision drift out of the side window, gazing down at the streams of traffic. I remember Citadel statistics suggesting that maybe 2% of the population were in some way involved in serious criminal activity, so anything beyond media piracy or traffic offences. I can't help but wonder what the statistic is for here. Though I imagine a census of that kind would be sort of impossible to carry out, if anyone wanted to do it in the first place.

"Hey, look at that," Garrus suddenly says, nudging me on the arm and pointing out the windscreen at a large vehicle, a cargo transporter. "It's headed the same way as us. And Harga's supposed to be at the spaceport in five minutes…"

"You think we've got our timing perfect?" I ask, pulling my sniper rifle off my back and quickly removing the scope, then I use that to look at the transporter. At first I can only see the back of it…but then I manage to get a look in one of the wingmirrors, and I see a familiar krogan face looking back. Harga. "Yes, yes we do. That's him. Let's keep tucked into the traffic, so he doesn't know -"

Garrus is already gunning the engine as I give him the information, rapidly closing down the gap between us and the transport vehicle. I can see Harga's expression change when he looks out his mirrors and realises he's being chased, and the sudden acceleration from his vehicle confirms that. "Or, you know, we could just put on some sirens and make ourselves even more conspicuous," I mutter, putting the scope back on my rifle and clinging to the dashboard.

Harga's vehicle suddenly drops out of our traffic lane, diving straight down then taking a sharp left between two skyscrapers. Garrus growls with a hint of satisfaction, following the manoeuvre exactly, which makes my stomach lurch from the sensation of the dive coupled with fear. I really wish Vortash wasn't still recovering.

"He's still on track for the spaceport," Garrus mutters, even as Harga pulls into oncoming traffic, brightly lit billboards and tunnelled 'roads' hurtling past us as both our vehicles dip between cars. Harga deliberately rams into one as it goes past, sending it hurtling towards us, but Garrus skilfully yanks us out of the way and between two vehicles flying above and below us, then gives me a quick glance. "Which means he probably thinks whoever he's dealing with is going to be able to take care of us."

"Eyes on the fucking road, Garrus!" I yell, making him look back out the windscreen before I reply. "And if you're right, we need to stop him before he gets there."

"You don't say," the turian replies, as Harga, apparently thinking his luck can't hold out forever, leaves the traffic lanes altogether and tries drifting back towards an area with more buildings on it to the left. "There's plenty of places around here to land. Force him down."

My sniper rifle's still in my lap, as I quickly look at Harga's vehicle. Karashu Manufacturer's SGA-17 Transport Vehicle, the 'smuggler special'. Quick, manoeuvrable, lots of carrying space, and more importantly, cheap. It also happens to have been the subject of many a training video in Contraband, and the fact I paid attention to at least one of those videos means I understand how the things work. The engines are located directly inside the thrusters on the back of the vehicle, which means a good shot should fuck them up with ease.

Taking down both engines would make the thing fall out of the sky for sure. Taking down one would be enough for the driver to make a safe landing, even if the thing suddenly becomes ten times harder to drive. In C-Sec, they tended to be carrying illegal weapons or drugs. We also had measures in place to be able to force vehicles down safely without anyone on the ground being at risk.

Except now, there's zero safety measures. And there's slaves in the back of that vehicle. If Harga crashes, they all burn with him.

"I can try, but the slaves in the back are fucked if he goes down," I say, looking back over at Garrus, who's gripping the wheel tightly as we dart in between buildings, practically taking ninety degree turns every time.

"And they're fucked if we don't force him down, so do something!" Garrus hisses. I open my window in the car, sticking my head out and resting the rifle against my shoulder, trying to keep it steady as much as I can with all the crazy turns going on.

This isn't black and white. It's not a matter of the slaves living if I don't take the shot, and dying if I do so we can get Harga. If I'm a good enough marksman, the slaves can be saved, and we can get that bastard krogan. But only if I take responsibility.

"Try and keep her steady, then!" I yell over the wind caused by our speed, placing my eye on the scope. It's jittering all over the place, but Harga hasn't noticed me taking aim yet. With a deep breath, I steady the rifle as best I can, mulling over the shot and things Erash has taught me. Take into account the speed we're both travelling, the speed of the shot in relation to the distance between us…

I squeeze the trigger, firing a round with slams into the back of the vehicle, about a metre wide of the left engine. Close. I drop the now spent heat sink, quickly sliding another one in and pulling the rifle's bolt before taking aim again. Harga knows I'm shooting now, though, and he dives behind a building at the last minute, making my shot harmlessly impact a wall.

"Two minutes," Garrus says urgently as I reload.

"Not helping," I mutter, bringing up the rifle when Garrus brings Harga back into view. We're between two buildings now, meaning the krogan has no room to manoeuvre except up or down, but right now he's flying straight. Perfect. I hold my breath again, feeling the perfect weight of the gun in my hands, practically visualising the bullet's flight path. When I fire this time, the round flies true, straight into the left thruster.

The effect is immediate, as I pull myself back in the car and fold the rifle onto my back. The thruster bursts into flames, and Harga's transporter lurches in the same direction, only held aloft by the straining right engine as he struggles to keep it under control. He slams into the side of a building, sparks flying, but somehow manages to pull away and stay in the air, even though he's losing altitude fast.

"Looks like he's given up on making the delivery," Garrus notes, lowering his speed and checking his omni-tool as Harga takes a large turn to descend. "There's a privately owned spaceport a couple of hundred metres away. Small, but enough of a landing area for him to make it down."

"Please tell me it's not the heavily guarded kind," I say.

"For once, we're lucky," he chuckles. "Nice shot, by the way." We're following behind now, with Harga clearly descending towards the spaceport, but he's not going to give up. Something's going to happen.

"Four years sniper experience pays off eventually," I reply, keeping my eyes on the spaceport. "He's going to grab a slave as a hostage as soon as he lands. Get us in front and put us down before he gets a chance."

Garrus accelerates past Harga and towards the landing pad, and the krogan has no choice but to follow. He's probably weighing up what's going to happen the same way we are. "You're right about him trying to get a hostage," the turian says. "Does the SGA-17 have direct access to the cargo area from the driver's compartment?"

"Nope," I say. "So when he gets out, you keep him suppressed so he can't there. I'll cloak, get behind him, and make sure he's incapacitated." I'm tempted to tell Garrus to just shoot Harga and save us both some time, but the krogan might have some kind of information. Right now, even the slimmest lead is something we need.

"Sounds good to me," the turian nods. We touch down and he pops the doors, both of us clambering out immediately. The spaceport really is a small affair, with enough room for maybe three vehicles and refuelling crews at once. We've parked near a refuelling station, with a few fuel canisters and suchlike scattered around behind where we parked. As seems to be the norm with Omega's spaceports, there's shipping crates and packing equipment left lying around, presumably because no-one gets paid enough to tidy things up. Works for us, though.

Garrus pulls his assault rifle, a Vindicator, and I whip out my pistol, the two of us crouching behind some shipping crates as Harga's burning vehicle hits the ground in front of us. The krogan bursts out of it literally the second it touches down, but Garrus has seen it coming, peppering the area around Harga with shots and forcing the krogan to hide behind his own reinforced box a few metres to the right of his ship. The security here will have been two people at best, and now that there's a burning slave ship and a krogan, along with Archangel and Deadpool, they've probably gone home early tonight. It's just the three of us.

I tactical cloak, running out with the aim of circling around Harga and putting the HVB to his neck, but the krogan yells in a furious rage, coming out from cover and just charging headlong at Garrus, shotgun out and firing. Garrus barely rolls out the way before Harga smashes through the crate he was using, but he's open on his back as the krogan whirls around to face him after the initial miss, roaring again as he readies another charge.

I sprint towards Harga as he puts all his momentum into running at Garrus, then dive and wrap my arms around the krogan's legs, making the two of us tumble to the ground and slide about ten metres on the slippy surface of the spaceport floor. I scramble away once we come to a stop, not even wanting to try grappling with a pissed off krogan, who quickly gets to his feet and charges me again, apparently forgetting Garrus even exists.

Dodging left doesn't help. I make the move too early, and Harga reads it, altering direction enough to grab me as he charges. He keeps running, then hurls me down at a fuel canister once we reach the refuelling station, my helmet smacking off the edge of the fuel box with a loud clang that leaves me dazed.

I try reaching for my sniper rifle as Harga stands over me, but I can feel myself hyperventilating, and my hands are shaking too much for me to get a grip on the gun before he slams a foot down on my arm to pin it. "I think I'm just going to knock you out for now, human," he says, and his deep, unmistakably krogan voice furthers my panic even more. "It'll let me enjoy myself more later if you're captured rather than dead." He's gonna capture me, he's gonna torture me, I can't do anything, my head's spinning from the lack of breath but I can't bring it in and I can't escape what Harga had in store for me –

There's a flanging shout, making Harga look around, then suddenly his head whips back, spittle flying out of his mouth as Garrus' rifle butt slams across his face. Harga manages to stay up, but the direct jab in his face makes him fall, clutching his face, which presumably has a fracture somewhere from that last hit. I manage to regain enough strength and thought to get to my feet, as Garrus steps onto Harga's stomach and points a pistol down at the krogan. Looks like my pistol. He must've picked it up on the way over here.

"Maelstrom bomb location," the turian growls simply, not wasting any time. I step back, trying to catch my breath as I watch him work. I'm not stopping him. Harga's done much, much worse to those slaves of his than whatever Garrus is about to do now. "Whiteguard has them, you helped Whiteguard move them. Tell me where they are."

"Let's do a deal," Harga says, managing a mocking chuckle. "You give me your human sidekick as a slave, I tell you whatever you want to know."

Garrus fires the pistol into Harga's hand, blood seeping out onto the spaceport as the krogan lets out a small grunt in pain. "This isn't a negotiation," he replies. "Tell me."

"Try harder," Harga spits.

Three more shots. One into Harga's other hands, then the other two into his feet. Harga stiffens up a bit at that, but still manages a laugh, which makes Garrus adjust his aim again, aiming at where the liver on a krogan is. I don't feel any kind of inclination to step in. It chills me a little when I realise it, but I can't hide the fact to myself. I'm _enjoying _this. Seeing a krogan who made others suffer take the same fate for himself. "That good enough for you?" the turian asks, brandishing the gun again. "The bombs. Where are they?"

"Up some clan leader's ass on Tuchanka," Harga grunts. "Why don't you go there and ask for it, _turian?_"

The pistol's trigger gets pulled again. This time, as I note with grim satisfaction, Harga's whole body arches up and he lets out a long groan of pain, and his breathing becomes more laboured as his muscles loosen again. "You've still got quite a few organs left," Garrus says, moving to the kidneys now. "Talk."

"I don't know," Harga says, ever-growing pool of blood stretching out beneath him. Regeneration is most likely the only thing keeping him alive. Garrus looks set to pull the trigger, but pauses, looking down at the krogan then to me. We're probably not going to break him. We should just kill him now. That's what he's trying to say.

"Give me that," I mutter, snatching the gun out of Garrus' hands and firing the two shots into Harga's kidneys. "Where are they?" I yell in his face, as it screws up with pain. "Where?" No response, so I put one into his stomach. "Tell me!" The next shot hits around where his intestines should be, and Harga's not even making noise now, just seizing up every time I fire.

"I don't know," Harga repeats, spitting out a glob of blood before managing a strained, pained chuckle. "You don't get it. I…I really don't know. You're wasting your time." I glare down at him, feeling…cheated. All of that for nothing. He might really not know anything, or he's not going to break. It doesn't matter anymore.

"Come on," I finally say to Garrus, looking up at the turian, who's helmet gives nothing away about how he's feeling. "Let's free those slaves."

"What about him?" Garrus asks, as the two of us start to walk away from the dying, useless krogan. "Are we leaving him to bleed out?"

Wordlessly, I point the gun behind me, looking straight ahead, and fire two shots. I feel the heat rolling off the exploded fuel canister on my back, but Harga stays silent as it burns straight through him. "Don't want him regenerating," I explain.

"No," Garrus mutters, sounding almost impressed. "We don't. You weren't lying about being ready for Omega, were you?"

"I've always wanted criminals brought to justice," I shrug. "This isn't any different."

"We weren't exactly…quick, with killing him," Garrus points out.

"He's dead," I say. "And he was a bastard. I'm not feeling a whole lot of sympathy for him. Hence shooting him then setting him on fire. Besides, I think we should be celebrating saving some slaves, rather than getting torn up about Harga, shouldn't we?"

"I guess you're right," the turian nods. "Though with him dead and not knowing anything, I don't know where we go from here." We pull open the cargo doors to the transporter, ten haggard, thin looking slaves staring back at us. No bomb collars, thank God. "You're free," Garrus says. "If you leave here and head down the street on your third right, there's a medical clinic that can give you help."

The slaves don't exactly waste time running out to their freedom, leaving me feeling some real satisfaction as they get away. With Harga gone, there's going to be a lot of people who don't have to suffer what they did. "We'll just have to see what comes up when Grundan decrypts the OSD," I say. "Shiara might be a lot of things, but she wouldn't have given it to us unless it's worth something."

"Well, unless it's the exact location of the Maelstroms, I don't think we've got a lot of options left," Garrus mutters, as we head back towards our car. I can see the burning fuel station as we move, an unmoving krogan shaped mound silhouetted against the flames behind it.

"_Anyone on this line?" _a rough batarian voice says. Grundan. That's some good timing.

"I'm here, Grundan, go ahead," I say. Now things are...well, whatever they are between us, I may as well respond to his newfound friendliness in kind.

"_Shaw_," he says, then pauses. "_Good to have you back. I got through the encryption on that OSD you had_."

He's still not wasting words. I guess some things never do change. "You find anything good?" I ask, as Garrus pulls away from the flames and broken ship rapidly receding below us.

"_I wouldn't be calling if I hadn't," _he grunts. _"It's Rhi'hesh Shurta's personnel file. His name, military background, contact details and address._" The Whiteguard leader. And the one who flashbanged me in the face, but more importantly, the one who had that mysterious blueprint. On Omega, the person he's likely to trust the most is himself. Shiara must've hacked into their network and accessed it. Bitch she may be, but this might just be twice I owe her my life in these past couple of days.

"Cheers, Grundan. Get that onto a datapad so we can brief the others when we get back to base" I say, grinning to myself as the batarian hangs up the line and I look at Garrus. "I take it you heard all of that?"

"I think our options just opened up a bit," the turian nods. "You know, this sounds like a job for the infiltration team. If you and Melanis are up for it."

I smile to myself as Garrus accelerates back towards the base. "It's a date."

**A/N: At last, the krogan hunt is successful.**

**So the more observant of you, or anyone who's actually been reading up to this point, may have noticed Ian's acting a bit…different. To avoid any potential buttclenching, there's a reason. I'm sure most of you know that, I just feel safer reiterating it, haha.**

**So, not long left now. We're definitely within the final nine chapters, maybe less. One last throw of the dice with Shiara's lead, and plenty, plenty more to come. **

**Thanks for reading. Later!**


	58. Ian vs The Doctor

Chapter 58

The Killers: Somebody Told Me

"I can brief Melanis about the stake-out once we get back to base," I say, as Garrus takes us back through Omega at a much more relaxed speed, which I'm thankful for. After killing Harga, I've had more than enough adrenaline for right now. "But I do need to know how we're going to be doing this."

"We've done stakeouts before," Garrus says, smiling. He seems as satisfied with the Harga result as I am, so I'm glad the two of us are getting along again. "If we're lucky, Shurta will have already left and be in a Whiteguard base somewhere, but seeing as not much happens early in the day, it might be a couple of hours before he goes into work."

"And we want to make sure we get as much time as possible to look around his place," I say. "Which means getting in as soon as he leaves. I see."

"Plus you two can scout the place out, check for the best way in, check for security patterns," Garrus adds.

"Well well, look at Mr. Infiltrator here," I say, adding a chuckle to show I'm joking. "I didn't realise you were such an expert."

"I know the theory," he says, laughing too. "That doesn't mean I'm any good at it. It's like you and that sword."

That's a valid point. I've managed to glean some basic tutorial videos for swordplay off the extranet, but it's a _lot _harder than I expected to teach myself. Particularly if I want to keep all my limbs attached. "Hey, I did manage to cut a guy in half with 'that sword'," I remind him.

"And I'm sure you'd be able to devastate a practiced swordsman too," Garrus says, sounding amused.

"Alright, point taken," I sigh. "What were we arguing about again?"

"You insulted my finely honed infiltration skills."

"Remember that one time you tactical cloaked behind that merc and backstabbed him?"

"No."

"Yeah, me neither."

"And that's your point taken as well," he chuckles. There's a pause as we fly before Garrus speaks up again, his tone more serious. "You think Shurta will have the Maelstroms."

"I'm pretty sure he'll get us one step closer," I say. "I know he has those blueprints I saw somewhere. If we know where they're planting the bombs, we can intercept them."

"Except you saw those blueprints two days ago," Garrus points out. "Honestly, I'm amazed they haven't planted them already."

"You can't really rush something like this, though," I say. "I mean, whatever plan they have, it's fucked if the bombs get found. Everything's got to be perfect. Besides, Whiteguard's probably waiting for Umbra to send them an order."

"Still think Umbra's involved?"

"Whiteguard have some kind of mysterious benefactor with a hell of a lot of credits," I shrug. "If they've got to carry out a favour for Umbra in return for the money, I wouldn't be surprised if this was it." And I still haven't worked out Umbra's agenda…which is frustrating. Of course, if we end up finding whoever's in charge of Umbra, then they'll be too dead for me to ask once we get hold of them.

"We're missing something about Umbra," Garrus growls. "They support lowlifes like Mirki'it, then move onto a mercenary group like Whiteguard. It doesn't make sense."

"We need to get the bombs first," I say, not really feeling up to thinking through Umbra's plans. After burning up Harga, my head's kind of a jumble. "We can follow the trail after that and see where it leads us."

"Agreed," Garrus nods, as we swoop downwards, signalling imminent landing back at the base. "With everything's that happening at the moment, stopping a major organisation like Umbra sounds good to me." Probably referring to what happened to me there…and probably the message I sent him about Sidonis, too. With Garrus keeping an eye on him, at least we can finish things on Omega on our own terms, rather than getting ambushed by mercs before Shepard arrives.

It only takes a minute to touch down and for Garrus and I to hop out, as I lower my helmet and he removes his. "I'll go and see Melanis about the mission, then," I say, gesturing up the garage stairs.

"Good," Garrus nods, making to walk off himself before turning and widening his mandibles in a smile. "Nice job out there, Ian. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," I say, unable to help feeling a small twinge of concern with myself as I follow him up. I feel good about getting praised, and I feel good about killing Harga. It just seems surreal a 'good job' constitutes shooting up a krogan and setting him alight. It's not somewhere I saw myself ever being at in life.

The living room has Sidonis in as I walk through, and he's chatting with Butler. He gives me a mostly impassive look as we lock eyes while I move past him, but I see them narrow a bit before he looks away. Meh. Haters gonna hate. Right now, I just want to get into Melanis' room, see how she's doing, maybe have a hug for a bit before -

"Ian." That's Monteague talking, completely blindsiding me as I walk toward Melanis' room and past the medbay. Damn, he's sneaky when he wants to be. "You went on a mission." Ah. He's not sounding too happy about that.

"Yep. I did," I say, hoping honesty will get me out of the conversation before things get awkward.

"Explain the logic behind that decision for me." Okay, things are going to get awkward.

"Garrus needed someone he could trust to stop Harga and save some slaves," I explain. "I wasn't going to tell him to ask for another person to do it."

Monteague folds his arms across his chest, blue brow-ridges furrowed in a manner suggesting he's not impressed. "You've been out of the medbay for less than a day."

I fold my arms too, staring the drell down. Physically, nothing went wrong that mission, so yeah. "Yeah, and I feel fine. You did a good job, Monteague, congrats."

"Ignoring the fact that you 'feel fine' and still need to actually recover," he says, continuing unabated, "your behavior is not what I would call 'fine.'"

Behaviour? He can't have heard about Harga yet, so the only other thing that comes to mind... "Is this about Melanis and I?" I ask, lowering my voice. Monteague saw us after the sparring match, so I'm pretty sure he knows what's going on. "I know a human and a turian isn't particularly normal, but still."

"No, it's not about Melanis," he replies, shaking his head. "Sidonis talked to me. Even if he hadn't, I'd still be here."

I roll my eyes, thinking back to the Sidonis conversation. He must've brought it up in passing with Monteague. Great. "Sidonis was pretty forthcoming with his opinions when I left, so I figured I'd just return the favour," I say. "It's nothing."

"Ian, you're many things," Monteague says, giving a wry chuckle, "but callous isn't one of them. You need to deal with what happened instead of shutting people out."

"Hey, I am dealing with things," I reply, feeling annoyed at the implication that I'm doing something wrong. "Having everyone ask how well I'm doing every ten seconds isn't helping with that. Once everyone gets over this, then I'll be more than happy to talk to them."

"They ask because they care about you," Monteague says, unfolding his arms and sounding genuinely concerned. "You haven't spoken to anyone except when pressed." He pauses for a moment. "Don't you think Vortash wanted nothing more than for you to get lost when you tried talking to him?"

"Yeah, probably," I shrug. "Now I can actually sympathise with him. Besides, it's not like me talking to him helped things."

"Did Vortash tell you that?"

"I figured it was a given, since I trailed off without really saying anything."

"Did you ever ask him about it?"

I'm starting to lose my patience now. Monteague's obviously looking out for me, but I don't know how much I can keep repeating myself. "No, I was a bit busy leaving and getting tortured to think about that," I snap, then instantly regret the reminder about the torture, being pinned...I shut my eyes for half a second, blocking the memories out. Good thing the visions have given me practice at that.

Monteague arches a brow-ridge at my outburst, but he's too patient to rise to it. "Vortash may not have wanted to talk to you when you waltzed up to him, but you did help unstick his mind," he replies calmly. "Vortash has been more relaxed, less protective of Sensat. He's been more forthcoming and open. All because a friend inserted himself where he wasn't necessarily wanted."

"Well, I'm happy for Vortash," I say, giving a little chuckle. "Maybe I'll go see him after we're done talking, and we can sing Disney songs together."

"How was confronting Harga?" Well, he's decided to switch tack there. Either because he's realised I'm not going to open up that way, or because he doesn't know any Disney songs. Or both.

"He's dead and we rescued the slaves he was transporting, so about as good as you can expect," I reply.

"I didn't ask about the mission. I asked about _Harga_."

"And I told you. He's dead," I repeat. "What's there to discuss? I figured that's the favourable outcome."

Monteague gives me a pretty long stare before he replies, but his eyes narrow in just the right way to make me a shiver at the look. "No panic attacks? No hesitation? No locking up?"

Fuck. That's fairly accurate. Except the hesitating. "Two out of three ain't bad," I say, trying to shrug it off.

"Two out of three." His flat stare continues, making me shift from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Are you going on another mission soon?"

"I think so, yeah. Shouldn't be any krogan on this one."

"Solo or with others?"

"With Melanis," I reply, sighing. "Is this going anywhere? Because I ought to get ready for it."

"Do you want to get Melanis killed?" Monteague asks bluntly.

Whoa.

Now it's my turn to give him a long stare myself, barely able to believe what he said. "I'm sorry, my translator must've just glitched, cos it sounded like you said I'm trying to get a fellow squadmate killed."

"If you freeze at the wrong moment, then you will," the drell says matter-of-factly. "You're dangerous in your current state. Two out of three will get her killed."

"Trust me, Harga knows exactly how dangerous I am, and it's not to my friends," I say, gleaning some small happiness from the fact that bastard's dead. "I froze up because I had a krogan standing on my chest while saying he was going to make me his bitch. Tell you what, why don't you go out there and see how calm you are when that happens?"

"I have. It gave me enough time to shoot him between the eyes." Oh yeah...Monteague's had a few run ins with the Blood Pack when he was running his own clinic. That makes sense. Though I wasn't expecting it.

"Well, you're obviously more of a badass than me," I finally reply.

"I'm not," he says. "Civilians freeze, people who don't have experience hesitate. But you've had years of experience. You've been trained to _not_ freeze. And until you figure out why you _did_, you're not fit to go on missions. Don't make me declare you unfit for duty."

Unfit for duty? My stare turns into a glare now. I'm getting these Maelstroms, and Monteague's not going to stop that. "Last time I checked, Garrus was in charge, not you. He seemed pretty happy with how things went with Harga."

"And if I tell Garrus you're not fit for duty, he'll just ignore me?"

"Sure, if I tell him I'm fine," I bluff. "Which, in case I haven't been saying it enough recently, I am."

"Last time I checked, I was the doctor here," Monteague says, obviously not put off by what I'm saying. "Not Ian Shaw. And if I say you're not fit for duty, then you're not fit for duty."

"Then you're going to need some damn good evidence, mate." May as well try and convince him. "Garrus and I've been through plenty worse."

Monteague just sighs, shaking his head. "If that's how you want it. If you'll excuse me, I need to find Garrus. I have matters to discuss with him." He turns around, making me immediately take a step forward, panicking. Okay, bluffing isn't going to work.

"Wait, Monteague, come on," I say, hint of desperation creeping into my voice. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm seriously alright. And this mission needs two infiltrators. Melanis and I are the only ones who can do that."

Thankfully, Monteague pauses, turning around slightly to look at me. "You're not alright, and I can't let you endanger Melanis because you think you're perfectly fine."

"And if I don't go on that mission, then tomorrow something's going to happen where Melanis and everyone else here is going to be endangered anyway," I say, thinking of our identities being revealed. I don't think Melanis or Garrus have mentioned it to the others while I was gone, since that would've fucked morale pretty badly. "Either way, it's not good."

"So you admit that something could happen if you do go?"

"Something could happen on every mission I go on," I sigh. "What we're talking about is the difference between chance if I do, and certainty if I don't."  
Monteague faces me fully as I say that. "So if you run into a group of krogan and one of them pins you to the floor, the wall, doesn't matter, and Melanis needs your help or she'll be killed, you won't hesitate?"

"Not for her," I reply firmly, meaning it. I know I froze up when it came to Harga, but that was just him and me. Melanis over-rides that.

The drell stands still, presumably evaluating me, before talking again. "You're absolutely certain this mission needs _you_?"

"No-one else is trained for stealth like I am," I say honestly.

"I will let you go," Monteague says after a small pause. "If you agree to talk to me afterwards."

"Alright," I say quickly, feeling relieved he's not going to stop me. "If it puts your mind at rest, I'll talk to you afterwards."

"It will put my mind at rest if you acknowledge that your behavior has been atypical, that your encounter with the Blood Pack left a deeper mark than you're letting on, that right now, you are not at your best," the drell says firmly. Absolutely no room in his voice for any other interpretation of what he's saying. "The squad needs you at your best. More than that, _you _need you at your best. Do not agree to talk with me simply to appease me."

I sigh, but give a serious nod. He's right, after all. As much as I'm trying to avoid thinking about it, I totally froze up at the spaceport. I'm feeling anxiety and stress, Ulron's haunting me from beyond the grave...it's not normal. Never mind the fact I freakin' _enjoyed _seeing Harga being shot. "Okay. I know I'm not a hundred percent right now," I admit.

"Then you are cleared for duty." Monteague starts to walk away, but turns after a few seconds, fixing me with the same hard stare that makes me shiver again. "If I find out that this mission did not require your particular skills, I will personally ensure that the most difficult task assigned to you for the next month is making your bed." With that, he gives me a nod and walks away.

I sigh, shaking my head as I continue on my path toward Melanis' room. Monteague's probably got something right there. I don't think I'm as bad as he's making out, but I think a talk with him wouldn't hurt. At least to talk about the nightmares I'm having about Harga. I'd happily welcome taking the visions back if he can help me get rid of them.

It's refreshing being able to walk into Melanis' room knowing I'm welcome, and the female turian gets up from her bed where she was sitting as soon as I walk in, and within a couple of seconds she's crossed the room and wrapped me in a hug, nipping gently along my neck as I hug her back. This huge sense of relief and normality washes over me as I do, fears and stresses temporarily forgotten as I rest my head against hers. "Nice to see you too," I say, smiling.

Melanis pulls back and returns the smile, mandibles fluttering happily. "Figured I'd give you a reward for a successful mission."

"My reward's only a hug and a little bite?" I ask, mock-outrage in my voice. "What kind of mission do I have to pull off for bigger rewards?"

Melanis' smile gets bigger at that. "We can talk after we find the Maelstroms."

I grin back, slowly pushing us back towards the bed until we both fall on it, my hands in hers. "We've still got an hour to get prepared for the next mission. Time to talk now."

"So what exactly is this mission? I didn't really hear any details." I let out a small groan as she moves straight to mission details, but her talon rubbing gently along my left thigh appeases me enough to give her the information.

"Grundan decrypted that OSD I retrieved," I explain, "and it has Shirion's details in it. Including his address. We need to stake the place out to see if it's empty, and if it's not we wait for him to leave. Then we get in there and see if we can find ourselves some Maelstroms."

"So a stakeout. Those can get boring," Melanis says, giving me a sidelong glance. "Maybe we can find a way to make it more interesting."

I return her glance, smiling. "Oh really? You wouldn't happen to have any suggestions, would you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I might be able to think of something."

I chuckle, stroking a few fingers down Melanis' chest-spur. "I did say we have a little while to talk..."

She purrs lightly at that. "That you did. Maybe we can..." She quickly grabs my arm and nips the inside of my wrist, lifting her head up so her face is only inches away from mine. "...brainstorm."

"Well, I remember you mentioning turians have different ways of biting," I say, before reaching down and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You could teach me some of the nicer ones."

Melanis starts nipping up my arm to my shoulder, apparently happy with that suggestion. "And I've always been curious about human kissing."

"I suppose while we're on the subject of curiosity, maybe not for the stake-out, but..." I say, knowing I'm pushing my luck but wanting to try anyway. "I've never known what a female turian looks like under those clothes."

Melanis' mandibles widen in amusement, as she stops biting and leans back to look at me. "And what makes you think you'll find out so quickly?"

"Nothing," I grin. "I just figure I won't get anywhere unless I take a chance and ask."

Melanis grins back. "Well, nice try. And if I recall, _you're_ the one who passed up the opportunity to shower with me."

I laugh, thinking back. Why did I do that again? "Well, I had my inane human concerns to get past."

"Much to your loss."

I nuzzle up to her, letting her slide a hand around to the back of my head and hold me underneath her chin. "I think I'm just about over them now. I don't know what I was thinking."

Melanis nuzzles me back, still purring gently. "You were thinking like a human. Which, considering you are one, is understandable. We'll have plenty of time in the future for more showers."

I smile at the thought, but can't help but feel down as I realise it's not exactly confirmed yet. "If we find the Maelstroms, we will."

"We will, Ian," Melanis replies, hugging me tightly, presumably hearing the sad tone in my voice. "I have no doubt about that. Everything will be okay."

"Yeah," I say, trying a chuckle. "Well, as okay as it can be with Aria holding four of the most powerful explosives ever made."

"As much as I don't like Aria, I also know she's not stupid," Melanis says. "She won't use them without a good reason."

"Good reason for her doesn't mean a good reason for everyone else," I sigh. "Doesn't matter. At least we can stop Whiteguard or anyone else using them."

"And at the moment, that's all we can do," Melanis says, running a talon down my back. "Though we did get Harga, which was a bonus."

"Too right," I reply, hugging her tighter at the thought. "No-one else is going to be enslaved because of him."

"Was he much of a challenge?"

"Once Garrus and I shot his major organs and blew him up with a refuelling station, nah, not particularly."

Melanis doesn't reply straight away, and I look up to see her with a surprised expression. I guess that was a bit blunt. "That seems a little much...even for a krogan."

"I swear, everyone's signed up with a humanitarian group while I was away," I say, rolling my eyes. No-one seemed to give a shit about how we killed the bad guys before, but as soon as I get back... "Garrus tried to find information about the Maelstroms off him, it didn't work, so we used the explosion to make sure he stayed down. He's dead. Does it matter how he got there?"

"I understand wanting to make sure he's down," Melanis replies, still looking and sounding surprised at my defensiveness, "but it doesn't seem like you, Ian."

I close my eyes briefly, trying to calm down. I don't want to get angry with Melanis. Especially when we're lying in bed like this. "I dunno. He was a bastard slaver, and he got brought to justice. That sounds like me. Even if the methods don't."

"That's just the thing; the _methods_ aren't yours. You're not acting yourself, Ian."

I shake my head, not particularly wanting to continue the conversation like this straight after Monteague. "We can worry about that after we get the bombs. Hell, Monteague's doing enough worrying for the three of us. Just..." I lift my head up, kissing Melanis' mouth plates gently. "I can be myself with you. Alright?"

She gives me a small nip on my lower lip, mandibles opening in a smile, but she still sounds concerned as I rest my head on her chest again. "And I love that you're that open with me. But I also wish you could be yourself around the others, too."

"Just give me some time, Mel." I say quietly. "I need that right now."

Melanis hugs me closer, finally relenting. "Alright. I just don't want to see you lose sight of who you are."

"I've got you keeping an eye on it for me," I say, feeling secure in that statement as I hug her back. Melanis doesn't say anything, just purring and nuzzling me up against her, and I feel that same sense of relief and calm wash over me again. She's the one person I feel even remotely close to talking about things with. I need her right now.

But unfortunately, the mission needs both of us. "We have to get ready for the mission, I'm afraid," I say, smiling as Melanis groans. "We find those bombs, I'm happy for us to stay up all night doing this."

"Something about this seems off," Melanis says, looking down and showing her teeth in a grin. "You're the one telling me to get up? I guess there's a first for everything."

"It's a one time only thing," I laugh.

"Good," she replies, mandibles stretching even wider as she stands up. "Now get up."

I grin and follow suit, looking down at my armour. "Well, I've already got my gear on, so you just need to get changed."

"Are you just trying to see me naked?" Melanis asks coyly. She's too good...

"I'm not sure what the right answer to that is."

"You can stay," she laughs, "but turn around. We've only just started dating."

I oblige her, but I talk as I go. "I can always check what a turian looks like with that Fornax subscription Garrus got me, you know."

"You could...but now that you have the real thing, you won't," she says with an amused tone in her voice, as I hear her armour being put on.

"You know me too well."

Melanis gives a small chuckle as the noises stop, her work presumably complete. "Alright, you can turn back around." I do so, seeing her familiar crimson armour set on now, helmet off so I can look at her face. I appreciate the touch. "So what will we need for this?"

"The usual rations and stuff," I say idly, then remember what Melanis said about needing to pass the time on the stake out. I was initially joking with my 'it's a date' line with Garrus...except now I think about it, that's actually a good idea. "But since we're probably gonna be waiting for a while, you want to take anything special? Like...a date?"

Melanis gives a soft smile, apparently quite happy with that idea. "If this is a date, then we skip on the usual rations. I have some nice food I've been saving for a special occasion."

"And I'm sure I can find something tasty that won't kill me."

"I didn't say it was all dextro."

I grin widely. She just has everything... "Now that's a nice surprise."

Melanis grins back, obviously pleased with making me happy. "I thought you'd like it. Ready to go?"

"Ready when you are," I nod. "Dinner and stopping four extremely dangerous bombs. What a night."

"Can't ask for much more on Omega," Melanis says, as the two of us get our helmets on and walk out of her room.

I'm not disagreeing with that.

**A/N: Stake-out/date/fluff/infiltration mission next chapter, so a bit of everything to look forward to there. I hope Ian's attitude at the moment is coming across well, by the way, or at least the reasons behind it are. Can't be too careful when you're doing something big like this with a character, if you know what I mean.**

**Special thanks to quantumparadigm again for applying her psychological expertise to Monteague, and this whole thing, actually. And also TheRev28 for continuing to help keep Melanis awesome.**

**So, it's that time of year where I go on holiday for a week, meaning most likely very little or no writing from now until next week, and definitely no update. Sorry. We're so close to the end now I can practically see it, but you'll all just have to hang in suspense for a little bit longer.**

**Thanks for your continued support, as always. I'll be going into my holiday feeling happy because of it. :) **


	59. Ian vs The Race

Chapter 59

Coldplay: Mylo Xyloto/Hurts Like Heaven

"As much as I hate the fact half of the buildings in Omega are abandoned shitholes, it's really bloody useful sometimes." I say, as Melanis and I finish sweeping the abandoned apartment block located about a hundred metres away from Shurta's penthouse building. It's a long way away, but we're not exactly at risk of being detected here. Plus it's a clean line of sight into his windows.

"I know what you mean," Melanis nods from behind me, finishing up placing proximity alerts in the corridor and door to the apartment we're holed up in. Means we'll have plenty of time to react if anyone does try and get in here for some reason. "Do you have the camera set up?"

"Sorting it out now," I reply, pulling a camera and tripod out of my own bag, and pointing it towards the window closest to Shurta's front door. I open my omni-tool, checking the display is good, then zoom in the camera so the lens is taking in the full view inside the window. We know Shurta's in the house; the lights are still on, and we've seen a batarian shape moving around inside. Any sign of movement near the door, however, and the camera'll let me know. Then we make our move. "Alright, all good. Though we could probably snipe the fucker from this range then search his place without worrying about him coming back."

"We don't want Whiteguard knowing anything's wrong just yet," Melanis says calmly, placing a hand on my shoulder gently. "We'll get him eventually."

"Eventually isn't now, that's the problem," I mutter, even though I remember the comments from both Monteague and Melanis herself as I say that. I'm not acting myself, and I'm a danger to her. The first one…maybe true. I'm determined to prove the second one wrong. Which means focusing on the mission. Proving to Monteague his 'not fit for duty' idea is bullshit.

Melanis doesn't say anything for a minute, giving me enough time to calm myself and return to a more amicable mood. Right now, only her and Garrus seem to have the effect on me. "Well, looks like he's not going anywhere for a little while," the turian comments.

"Damn, I guess we'll have to spend time together in this abandoned building," I grin, turning to face Melanis, who has her mandibles spread wide in a smile. My impatience and annoyance evaporates at that.

"We always get the best jobs, don't we?"

"Normally, I'd make a pithy remark about how wrong that is, but tonight..." I step forward, wrapping my arms around her waist and lowering my voice as I lean closer. "I'd have to agree."

"So it looks like we actually have time for our date," she says, mandibles bared even more. "Knowing your luck, I'm surprised."

"Well, no doubt we'll find this building's rigged to explode in the next ten minutes or something," I chuckle. "But until then, a date it is." I circle Melanis' waist with my fingers, happy at the small purring sound she makes as Melanis leans down and gives me a few nips on my neck. We've got a little time for this before Shurta leaves...and I need it. It means I don't have to think about all the worrying and scary stuff out there.

"And I thought I was supposed to be the pessimist," Melanis says, pulling back and opening her pack. She pulls out some turian food first, laying it down on the ground as I reach in to help.

"I don't see why the two of us can't both be pessimistic," I shrug, pulling out...ooh, chocolate! "Means we can always avoid disappointment."

"Well compared to me, you're still pretty optimistic," Melanis points out.

I laugh, halting my actions temporarily to look up at her. "That's not a problem, is it?"

Melanis returns my look with a small smile and a chuckle, shaking her head. "No, it's not. In fact, it's kind of cute."

"Cute?" I say, smiling back coyly. "I can get used to being called that, as much as I'm surprised it's a quality you've liked."

"I can't really explain it, but there was always something about you when you were being optimistic," Melanis says quietly, taking my right hand in hers. "In the end, it helped me realise that I could feel more than annoyance for you." She draws my hand closer, repeating the same bite to the inside of my wrist that she enjoys doing so much. I can't feel it through the armour...but it's symbolic. The pleasant chill I feel at that thought more than compensates for her teeth not being on my skin.

"And I always thought the optimism was what made me an annoyance," I chuckle, making Melanis laugh too. "I...have roughly no idea what made me realise you were more than someone to argue with," I admit, as the two of us settle down and I shift closer to her. I genuinely don't, too. I have a ton of respect for Melanis. I find her good looking, good to talk to. I mean, it feels like enough, but I don't really know what the grounds for a relationship tend to be. "You're just...nice. You give a damn. It's hard to explain."

Melanis shifts closer herself, sounding hesitant. "And I'm not completely sure what made me realise we could be more than just squad mates."

"Me neither," I say, leaning my head close to hers. "But I'm not sure that's something that bothers me all that much right now."

Melanis closes the final distance, pressing her forehead against mine, followed by her mouthplates slowly pressing against my lips in a nice, soft kiss. "It doesn't bother me either," she says quietly, as we pull apart after a few seconds. "I certainly could have picked someone worse to like."

"Mmm," I mutter idly, trying to focus on the conversation rather than her taste on my lips. "Grundan. He'd not be the best choice. I guess Monteague would've been a bad choice in his own way, seeing as you wouldn't have got very far with him."

"Oh, but that voice," Melanis says, with a teasing smile. "That might be worth all the troubles. Though I suppose your voice is good enough."

"I'm told my monotone is irresistible."

Melanis leans back in as I say that, her flanging voice turning into what sounds like a sultry whisper as she talks. "Only if used right." Her teeth slide over my left earlobe, nibbling down and making me chuckle at the tickling sensation.

"That's a horribly ambiguous statement, Mel..." I press up against her. "Might need a little explaining..." I run my fingers along her fringe to underline my point, encouraging her.

"Tell me what you want to do," she whispers in the same voice, in between nibbles.

Uh...I'm not sure how to interpret that. "Eat the special food...," I try. "Cuddle...find Maelstrom bombs..."

I feel the nibbles slow down, Melanis' eyes turning slightly to look at me. Oh God, I clearly cocked that up. "How do you want to cuddle?"

"In a...nice way?" I ask, raising my voice questioningly at the end. The nibbles stop as I say that, and Melanis lets out a quiet sigh as she rests her forehead on my shoulder.

"How many girlfriends have you had, Ian?"

I pause, feeling fairly embarrassed my lack of experience has shone through this quickly. And I really don't want to get into a deep conversation about Tali, or Rebecca. Especially the latter. "Two. One was pretty much platonic and the second was a quarian, so completely platonic. Why?"

"That might explain it," she mutters under her breath, before returning to her normal voice. "Try being sensual. I like to hear you say what you want. Like this." She leans in again, and the sultry whisper returns. "Start rubbing my spurs and kiss me."

I oblige, of course, quickly hooking my right ankle around Melanis' right spur and run it up and down, giving her a slow kiss along a mandible as I rack my brains to work out something to say. Uh... "Take your gloves off, then run your talons down my neck," I say, trying to emulate her whisper and praying she doesn't just give up again, as my mouth slides onto hers again.

I've got my eyes closed, but I can feel Melanis' hands shifting as she removes her gloves. Then, without warning, a sharp talon ever so slowly slides down the back of my neck, the feeling like ice running down the top of my spine. My lips stretch into a smile against her mouth plates, but she pulls back, grinning at me. "Was that so hard?"

"Nope," I smile, quickly closing the gap she made and stroking her fringe as I adopt the whisper again. "I didn't think it was gonna end that quickly."

"Just wanted to make sure you had the hang of it," Melanis smiles, leaning in again for another kiss. I close my eyes...but this time she does something different, capturing my lower lip in her teeth gently and purring happily.

"Maybe we should take a lie down for this," I say, my words a little distorted from Melanis nibbling on my lower lip, but I have the semblance of mind to omit saying who should be lying on who.

Melanis releases my lip, purring louder. "I like that idea." She holds the collar of my armour and falls back, gently pulling me with her, but then rolls us over until she straddling me with a satisfied smile. I figured she'd do this. And it's not a problem at all. "Better?"

"Much," I nod, taking in her figure, soft eyes and happy expression. "You know, you actually look really pretty when you're straddling me outside of a sparring match."

"You loved it even during the sparring match," she chuckles, lacing my hands in hers.

"Mmm, true," I admit. "Different context now, though. You're sexy in a romantic way rather than a more animalistic one."

"You thought the animalistic was sexy?" Melanis asks, sounding surprised. "I can certainly provide more of that if you want."

"What," I chuckle, "you thought I _wouldn't_ find that a bit attractive?"

"I can't say I've met many human males who have."

"Seriously?" I ask, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Did they say why?"

"Not in so many words," Melanis shrugs, trailing a talon down my chestplate, "but I gathered that they liked their females a little more docile."

I pause briefly, grinning as I realise what she's getting at. "And I take it you prefer the reverse."

The grin she gives me in return says all words ever could. "I do find if more interesting to be the aggressive one."

"I've gathered," I say, running my hands down her sides. "I'm not complaining either." It's not like I'm surprised Melanis isn't at all docile. Honestly, I think it's the one of the reasons I really like her.

"Then maybe I can finally have some fun in a relationship," she murmurs, with an ambiguous soft purr.

"Fun for both of us, or just you?" I ask, cocking my head to the side coyly.

"Definitely fun for me," she says, with a sly smile that gives me chills at the implications of it. "Whether or not you like it is up to you."

I chuckle quietly. She's so...confident. And it's really kind of awesome. "You know humans aren't as...robust as turians, right?"

"That can make it even more fun."

I wrap my arms around the back of Melanis' neck, pulling her down closer to me and whispering in her ear. "And how's that?"

"Would I get this reaction from a turian?" she asks, then quickly nibbles my earlobe again, making me wriggle and laugh.

"I guess not..." I say, as she finally relents. "You have an odd idea of aggression if this is the best you have, though."

"Just getting warmed up," she grins. "And remember, we're still technically on a mission. Armour tends to get in the way."

I grin back. "Well, lemme know when you're done warming up. I think I've still got my C-Sec cuffs somewhere." I say it as banter, waiting for Melanis to laugh, but her grinning expression doesn't change. "That was a joke."

"Oh, I don't know," she muses, innocently inspecting her talons. "I rather liked that idea."

I pause briefly, trying to work her out. "I honestly can't tell if you're serious or not."

"Do you want me to be serious?" she smiles. Okay...big question. Not something I've really been asked before. But...well, she'd clearly enjoy it. Just for a second, the thought of Ulron flickers back, but Melanis' purrs and grin force it back down immediately. Being honest, if Melanis enjoyed it, I suspect I would to. And having someone I can trust to have me like that is important. Just having someone I can completely trust, full stop.

"If I said yes..." I finally murmur slowly, smiling back.

"Then I'd be telling you to find those cuffs," Melanis says, sounding _very _satisfied I'm not protesting.

"I can always borrow Garrus' pair if I can't find mine," I chuckle.

"That's what I like to hear," Melanis says playfully, leaning down again. "Now hold still." The female turian leans down again, but this time scrapes her teeth along my jaw line before biting down the right hand side of it. There's more force in each bite this time, making me give sharp intakes of breath with each one.

"Have I ever mentioned you're incredible?" I ask between bites, staying still for her.

Melanis stops, smiling down at me. "Even if you have, I love hearing it." She moves back in, biting down my left now, sliding her talons across my wrists and purring as she keeps me pinned. We're both happy to let it continue for a minute or two, the bites intermingled with her long tongue slipping out against the small marks she leaves, before her mouth and tongue somehow find their way to mine, but I know we can't keep doing this.

I sigh as she pulls back from the kiss, dextro-reaction only leaving a slight tingling in my mouth as she does. I might not be blessed in all that many ways, but at least I was given abnormal dextro resistance. I guess everything I lost in height genes went into that instead. "You're gonna have to at least roll us onto our sides so someone can look at Shurta's building," I point out, even as Melanis keeps me pinned underneath her.

There's a flash of disappointment in Melanis' eyes, but it's quickly covered up by a smile as she obliges, rolling us so we're both facing Shurta's building. "Look at you being the responsible one," she chuckles, but Melanis keeps a tight hold on me, taking care to pull me closer to her as we lie there.

I rest my head back against her chest, feeling far too tempted to just drift off in her arms like this. "Sorry. I know we've got the sensors set up and all, but I'd like us to spend more than one time like this together, which'll be an issue if we lose the Maelstroms now."

"I was wondering if you would remember that we actually had a mission."

"To be fair, I do have a pretty big distraction."

"And here I thought the great Ian Shaw could multi-task," Melanis grins.

"You do love calling me that, don't you?" I say, laughing as I remember how often she makes little comments like that.

"Don't pretend you don't love hearing it," she murmurs.

"I probably would if you weren't being so snarky about it," I smile.

"I just thought I'd combine your two favorite things," she says innocently. "Snark and feeding your ego."

"Aren't they kind of counterintuitive like this?" I point out.

Melanis shrugs, her body shifting behind me. "I thought it was worth a try."

"You're up front about wanting to handcuff me," I chuckle. "At least give the same courtesy with insults."

"You know you love the banter."

"Yep." I quickly turn my head away from the building to look at Melanis, the heat rolling off her body as she holds me. I love how warm turians are... "We've practically built an entire relationship on it."

"I can think of worse things to base a relationship on," she says, with a soft smile.

"Well, it's our banter and how irresistible I am," I say teasingly. "So I guess we have more than one thing going."

Melanis rolls her eyes jokingly. "Yeah. You're lucky I can keep my talons off you."

"I must've misheard; lucky that they're _off _me?"

"Bite me, Shaw." Oh, she must've said that without thinking...

"Remember last time you said that?" I ask, grinning wider.

"Yes, and I'm surprised you're not jumping on the opportunity like you did last time."

"Just making sure you want to. Last time you said it I thought you were gonna gut me."

"I think we've come a long way since then."

"As do I." I brush my teeth along Melanis' neck, with its leathery skin as opposed to plates elsewhere. "I'm taking that as a yes?"

"Just bite me already."

I give small nips across Melanis' skin, the surface surprisingly strong as I do, so I increase the biting strength a little. Then again, no wonder it's strong, seeing as they bite for affection. Melanis is probably holding back a ton when she does it to me.

Her purring starts immediately with the stronger bites, and she talks in an almost dreamy voice as I continue. "A definite improvement over last time."

I pull back a little, curious. "Why's that?"

"Besides the fact I'm not trying to gut you?" she asks jokingly.

I smile too, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, besides that."

"I think experiencing it first hand has helped you improve."

"Well, more experience never hurt."

"Then maybe you should keep practicing," she says, fluttering her mandibles and showing her teeth in what I assume is a sultry smile. I chuckle, sliding my teeth over her neck again, but then roll back over to face the building, grinning to myself at her little growl.

"Mission, remember?"

She gives a small groan, reaffirming her grip on me. "It figures you choose this mission to actually be on the ball."

"I know how much you hate me distracted."

"Well, you're passing all my tests with flying colours."

"Or you're just not trying hard enough."

Melanis gives a playful swipe with her talons across my chest, smiling. "Such insubordination."

"You're not in command," I chuckle. "When did you turn into Garrus?"

"This is an infiltration mission, and if I'm not mistaken, I lead the infiltration team."

I pause. Yeah, that's true. "Good point," I concede. "Oh well. You can handle a bit of insubordination."

"That may be," Melanis says, her flirting voice slipping back, "but I'll need to think of a...suitable punishment for you."

I laugh, rolling my eyes. She's insistent... "You are having way, _way _too much fun with this."

"It's not my fault you keep setting yourself up for these."

"Yeah, but you say that when I set myself up for jokes," I point out, rolling over to look at her. "You ain't joking."

Melanis just gives me a broad grin. "But you still love me anyway."

"Well, to be honest, at the moment I think that hinges on whatever this 'punishment' is."

"Give me some time to think of something."

"I plan on celebrating after we get those Maelstroms, as I imagine the rest of the squad do," I smile. "So think fast."

"I always work best under pressure."

"Is that another euphemism?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"That depends on the context."

I laugh, leaning in to kiss her again. "You're shameless."

Melanis chuckles as I do, then gives me a quick nip. "And you wouldn't have it any other way."

That statement makes me think briefly. Honestly, Rebecca wasn't really too similar to Melanis. Tali was pretty much the polar opposite. "Actually, you're the most confident person I've ever, like...got as far as kissing with," I admit. "By a long way. It's a new experience."

"I'm just as hard a trainer in this as I was with infiltration," Melanis says, purring lowly. "So let's hope you pick this up quicker than you did with that."

"Ooh, scathing," I wince. "I only took so long cos I wanted to perfect it. Which, let's be honest, I must be getting close to."

"Well, considering everything I've seen, I'd say you're further than you think," she grins.

"See, here we were, being all nice and romantic," I sigh, giving an exaggerated sigh as I wrap my arms around Melanis' waist. "And then you've got to say shit like that."

"Aren't you the one who said that we've built our relationship on banter?" she counters.

"Well...pretty much, yeah," I concede. "But it still hurts my feelings. Especially when it's not true anymore."

"So confident. Maybe we should test that."

"Sounds like you have something in mind."

Melanis gives me a pretend thoughtful look for a few seconds. "Well, from what I can tell, the security system Shurta has is terrible. How would you feel about a little race?"

"What, a race to find whatever it is he's hiding in there?" I ask, smiling.

"Basically, yes."

Hmm. The security system doesn't seem anything special, as Melanis says. And I can't turn down a challenge by her. "Well, I guess we need some kind of tiebreaker after the spar. This'll do fine."

"It's not as fun as some other tiebreakers I can think of," Melanis says, with a coy smile, "but I suppose it'll do." I laugh at that. Laet had already heard about Garrus' 'reach and flexibility' story by the time he came to Omega, so of course, it was common squad knowledge within a few weeks. The gossipy bastard.

"I'll bet," I say. "I just don't think I'd get much of a chance in anything you have planned in that sense, from the sound of what you've said tonight."

"Who knows?" she shrugs. "Losing could be just as fun as winning."

"Could make it a best of three thing. This being one round."

"Sounds good to me."

I nuzzle up to the turian, relaxing as we look at Shurta's building. "Me too."

We stay in a similar position to that for another half an hour, neither of us really talking, just happy to hold each other and keep our minds on happier things. We eat, too, Melanis happily tearing into the dextro food while I enjoy the chocolate collection she managed to pick up from somewhere.

After the half hour is finished, I'm polishing off a cherry flavoured chocolate cube when my omni-tool suddenly starts beeping. Wordlessly, Melanis and I scramble to our feet, heading over to the camera I have set up looking at Shurta's door. I rewind the footage ten seconds…and get to see a familiar looking batarian type a code into a panel next to his door, then said door slides open and he leaves. Thirty second after that, a skycar sets off from the top of the roof, presumably Shurta' personal landing pad.

"And that's our cue, I believe," I say, turning around to look at Melanis…who's already running out of the room with her pack back on. "What the fuck are you…race," I sigh, quickly disassembling the camera and shoving it back in my pack before taking off after her.

I've got no idea whether Melanis went up or down, but I can't see her as I jog out of the empty apartments and across the street towards Shurta's building. Unfortunately, now that Melanis' isn't next to me anymore…my mind's drifting back towards what Monteague said. This is reckless, on top of my condition already being dangerous to Melanis. If I fuck this up somehow and Melanis has to come and rescue me, that could get her killed…

_So don't fuck up. _I've done things like this a thousand times before. In much harder buildings. I press up against the wall next to the transparent door, slowly peering around to look in. Two guards, stood in front of the elevator at the far end of the room. The shiny walls and floors only broken up by four big pillars arranged in a square, and seating that no-one'll ever use lined up around the edge of the room. This is obviously a pretty exclusive apartment complex, since most places don't have assault rifle wielding guards to welcome you into the elevators. Okay. This ought to be easy.

I activate the tactical cloak, then open the door, dashing behind one pillar and peering around while still invisible as the batarians do a double take. "Huh," one finally mutters. "Did you see that?"

"The door opened," the other one says, in a tone like someone who's discovered the meaning of life. I roll my eyes. This could take a while.

"Yeah, but what I'm saying is, _why _did the door open?"

A long pause. "Doors open when people press the button on them. So…someone pressed the button?"

"Who, though? I didn't see anyone?"

"I dunno. You can't expect me to be staring at the door the whole time we're stood here."

"What the fuck were you staring at, then?"

"…stuff."

Well, they're not investigating, that's for sure. My cloak's had more than enough time to recharge, and this is a race, so I turn invisible again and walk up to the guards, flexing my fists.

I come out of the cloak with a quick jab into the face of the guard on the left, then quickly duck behind the guy on the right and hold his arms. The surprised guard I punched naturally lashes out with a wild punch, hitting his friend square in the face and knocking him to the ground as I let go. From there, it's an easy block of the standing batarian's clumsy attempt to backhand me from his unbalanced position, which I follow with a knee in the stomach, then grab his head with two hands as he doubles over and ram it into the elevator call button.

He drops to the ground unconscious, and it's a simple matter of knocking out his groaning mate with a kick to the face. Just in time for the elevator to arrive, doors sliding open as I dust my hands and step inside. Now to hack access to the penthouse floor. Thank fuck those guys were batarians, not krogan…

My mind starts running through what would've happened with krogan while I reach to start the hack on my omni-tool, and I can't stop myself. That attack wouldn't have worked, that's for sure. The jab would've done nothing, then they'd both have grabbed me, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything…

I fall back against the side of the elevator, sliding down it as I close my eyes, take deep breaths and try to focus on something happy, anything at all to stop the sudden feeling of a lack of oxygen, my head swimming and pulse skyrocketing.

It takes a minute of trying to focus on Melanis and I back in the apartment building for me to bring myself to open my eyes, and climb unsteadily to my feet, looking back at my omni-tool to start the hack. My hands are shaking so badly it's difficult to put in the correct inputs, but I manage eventually, and leave the hack to do its work while the elevator doors slide shut. I quickly look up and around for cameras, and seeing none, I sigh and lower my helmet into my armour, needing to get out of the damn thing for a minute.

I'm a mess. Without Melanis, I'm insecure. Panicked. With her around, I feel…safe. Like she'll protect me from anything. It makes sense I'm clinging to something for safety, I suppose. Melanis makes sense. A lot of sense.

The elevator starts rising, and I let my helmet slide over my head again, shaking my arms and bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet to liven myself up. I'm still reluctant to talk to Monteague. I've always hated admitting I can't handle something alone, especially emotional issues. The fact I'm convinced, though, however reluctant I feel, to go and see him like he asked, probably isn't a good sign.

"Find the Maelstroms, then let the others take care of it," I say quietly to myself. "One mission, then Monteague gets to play Dr. Melfi to my Tony Soprano." I pause for a second, thinking about how good that analogy is. "Minus the belligerent sexual tension. And the other stuff. Stop talking to myself."

I obey my own instructions, and feel a bit better for it as the elevator door opens. Hacking Shurta's door is an inconvenience that's almost irrelevant at this point, thanks to Grundan's omni-tool upgrades, but to be fair, the Whiteguard leader's advanced security system does buy him a whole minute for me to gain access. Money well spent right there.

I quickly scan the place as I walk in. Asides from the bathroom, which is presumably the area with a door in the top right corner, it's open plan living for our man. Huge bed at the far end of the room, which must be about thirty five metres long and fifteen wide, with a bedside table and datapads on the bedstand next to it. Could be relevant.

There's a sunken down living area with a big screen and sofas, but unless he keeps classified secrets under the cushions, that's not going to be it. Big modern kitchen, but the fridge probably isn't ideal storage either, which leaves…his terminal, on the left side of the room, on a large desk. One big enough to fit a blueprint roll.

I immediately head to that, feeling pleased Melanis' approach is taking so long, and move the terminal's mouse as I sit down at the desk, faint glow of the screen lighting me up as it boots up. Shurta keeps it on standby, which saves me one hacking attempt, thankfully. I immediately click on the mail application, and I'm taken pretty much straight away by one particular email.

Sent by: Umbra.

Subject: Confirmation.

_Time to prove our investment was worthwhile, Shurta._

That was sent forty minutes ago. Shurta was probably finishing up preparations at his house before setting off to put whatever plan they have for the Maelstroms into action. Which means they'll already be on the move. Just our luck…

I lean down to the desk drawers, yanking the bottom one open…and gasping in relief as I see a blueprint roll in it. I pick it up, prising the lid open slowly, and checking for a string like last time. Though a flash grenade isn't the worst case. The worst case is that the damn thing's empty.

No string in sight. I pop the cap off, smiling to myself as I see the roll safely inside this time. This is probably the one Shurta flaunted at me at the recruitment drive I 'visited'. Time to see –

A huge force crashes into me, knocking me off the chair and onto the ground. I kick frantically up at the weight pushing me down, barely registering it as a turian…a laughing turian. Laughing female turian, who's trying to prise the blueprint container out of my hand. "For fuck's sake, you scared the shit out of me!" I gasp, looking up at Melanis, feeling the panic attack that was about to hit slowly drift away.

"I was waiting for about five minutes to see if you'd be able to find that thing," she chuckles. So much for her not getting in before me… "Congratulations. You passed the test. But I'll be needing that to win our competition, so…" She digs her knee down on my right arm, and my hand flexes open unconsciously, letting her pluck it out.

"Umbra mailed Shurta," I say, as she pulls out the roll and starts to open it. "Whatever they're doing with the Maelstrom bombs, it's tonight, which is also our deadline for Aria. So wherever that place is, we need to tell the others quick so we can make the delivery on time…" Melanis has unrolled the blueprints, but she's just staring down at them. I can't see her expression behind the helmet, but her silence says a whole lot. "What? What's wrong?"

"These blueprints," she says slowly. "They're for Afterlife."

…

"Well," I say, after a shocked pause. "That's ironic."

**A/N: Back from holiday! Yay!**

**Enormous thanks to TheRev28 for taking time out of his hectic schedule to help with Melanis instead of getting ready for college. What a legend.**

**I get exam results tomorrow, and the aftermath of that could be hectic, whether they're good or bad (though the aftermath won't be the same for both eventualities).** **Might take a week or so for the next chapter. But hopefully not. I'm just giving the worst case here.**

**Thanks for your continued interest and support. MtM3 is truly drawing to a close now, and I'm so happy you all chose to stick along for the journey, whether you've been reading since the start or just started now. :)**

**Later!**


	60. Ian vs The Bombs

Chapter 60

Poets of the Fall: Running Out of Time

"Grizz, I need you to put me onto Aria's line, now," I say, my words coming out in a pant as Melanis and I dash towards the pillar of red light in the Omega skyline called Afterlife. Melanis is quickly relaying information and instructions back to Garrus and the others, but there's no way they're going to arrive before we do. Considering Shurta's instructions came in forty-five minutes ago, this is one of those 'every second counts' moments.

"_What, so she's distracted while you try and kill her again?_" Anto replies, and I can hear the sneer in his voice. "_I don't think so. Once you deliver those Maelstrom bombs, then maybe she'll be feeling talkative._"

"I'm not stupid enough to want to kill Aria," I say, practically shouting but not being able to muster up enough air as we run. "And even if I was, I can't fucking do it with my voice. So at least try and earn some of whatever it is you get paid, and transfer the damn call!" Why the hell did Aria insist on Grizz, of all people, screening every call directed at her?

"_Ask nicely_," he says, hint of a purr in his voice. Considering the fact that I've been kind of a dick to him for the past…ooh, one and a half years, he's probably entitled to some revenge. I just wish he didn't call it in _now. _

"Please, Grizz, can you connect the call for me? Thanks so much," I say, trying to avoid sounding too sarcastic. The purr grows louder and more satisfied, then the line suddenly switches to a voice of someone who most definitely doesn't purr.

"_What is it, Shaw_?" Aria asks, and I practically flinch at the use of my name. I hate how she knows that. "_Do you have my bombs?"_

"Aria, you need to evacuate Afterlife," I say. Melanis and I dip around a corner, her increased speed suggesting she's finished whatever conversation she was having with Garrus.

There's a long pause before she replies. "_I'm going to be nice enough to assume that was a joke._"

"You have the Maelstrom bombs in Afterlife," I continue. "And we weren't the ones to deliver them to you, if you see what I mean."

"_So I'm supposed to _evacuate_ Afterlife, just because of a tip off you, of all people, gave me?"_ she asks. "_Even if I believed you, do you really think I'm stupid enough to send everyone out of here? Do you have any idea how that'd make me look?_"

"Does it matter if you're all dead?" I shoot back rhetorically, breathing hard at this point. Only a couple of minutes until we get there…in full armour. Melanis and I have already had all manner of startled looks from the people we've sprinted past, and Afterlife itself…that's a hangout where we're guaranteed to see at least one group of mercs. Brilliant.

"_If I evacuate and the bombs go off, Afterlife gets destroyed, and I may as well go with it_," Aria says bluntly. "_If I evacuate and somehow, you miraculously stop them, I look like a fool jumping at unwarranted threats_."

"Look out over the floor, Aria!" I reply. "You're going to risk all those people so you don't lose face?"

"_I'll have my people look for anything suspicious," _Aria says firmly. _"But no evacuation. If those people are really at risk, then you're the one whose job it is to save them, not me. I just make sure everyone keeps having a good time." _She pauses briefly, and I can imagine her trademark smirk on the other end of the line. "_Oh, and if this turns to out to be some lie to buy yourself more time, I'll make sure your identities get out tonight. And organise a few krogan to show Deadpool out of Omega, and let Ian Shaw in." _She hangs up before I can get a word in.

"Ian, what's the hold-up? Come on!" Melanis snaps, as I feel myself slowing down from the thought of what Aria suggested. Melanis' voice brings me out of it, though, and I pick up speed again as we dip into the market district just before Afterlife.

"What did Garrus say?" I ask, panting from fatigue.

"That he's on his way with Weaver and Sidonis," the turian replies, sounding less tired than me, but still out of breath. "But they're going to be ten minutes. And Weaver thinks he'd need at least half an hour to defuse a Maelstrom."

"Then I seriously hope these things have an off switch," I mutter, trying to remember that C-Sec training vid on them.

Maelstroms are portable, which is the first problem. Since they were designed to bring down buildings, which obviously put a limit on size, meaning they could most likely be fitted inside a large rucksack without a huge amount of difficulty. Course, bags have to be checked when going into Afterlife, which means they shouldn't have been able to transport them like that anyway. Course, all it takes is a significant bribe and ticket off Omega for someone to look the other way…

In addition, Maelstroms have activation codes. Only the owner, who was planned at the time to be a government rather than mercenary group, would have the activation (and deactivation) code for them. Though if Whiteguard want maximum effect, a simultaneous explosion would be ideal. Meaning the bombs have already been prepared with their codes, and are just waiting on the detonator.

Even when the detonator's pressed, there's a five minute fuse before the bombs actually detonate so whoever planted them can get clear, and the detonators have a coded switch to reverse the countdown sequence. There's a certain sick irony in the amount of safety features they fitted onto such a dangerous weapon, and even that was only to make it just about legal at the time of their inception. That sick irony gives us some fighting chance, though. "What're the likely areas for them to plant in?" I ask. "Did Shurta put any marks on the blueprint?"

"Yeah, but for the life of me, I have no idea how he plans on getting the bombs in there," Mel says, sounding astounded. "There's one in the central bar on the lower floor of the club."

"So that's everyone there and above dead straight away," I mutter. "Where else?"

"One inside that place where that krogan…Patriarch, where he is. Another in the antechamber next to the bar on the top floor, and the final one is in the women's bathroom. That's not even possible. Whiteguard couldn't get all of them in there at once."

"Let's not make that assumption until we clear the place out, shall we?" I ask rhetorically, as we head up the stairs out of the market district and slow down as we see the queue into Afterlife. "Your armour is incognito enough for you to get in fine, I reckon."

"Well, yours really isn't," she notes.

"I'll take care of it," I say confidently, despite having literally no plan at all. "You go to the woman's bathroom and Patriarch's place. I'll handle the bar and alleyway."

Melanis runs off, leaving me standing conspicuously out in the open. I quickly turn back around into the relative safety of the market staircase, running through my options. I can't cloak indefinitely. Probably long enough to get me through the queue and into Afterlife, but then I'll be standing in the main area in full armour like an idiot. A very dead idiot.

I could go in via the back alleys, and stow my armour there. I can hide them in the shadows, and it's like anyone ever goes down there anyway, seeing as it tends to be a vorcha hangout. That at least gets me inside Afterlife without being identified, albeit not much further. I've got a skintight underlayer on beneath this, but that's going to draw more attention to me than it eliminates. I need a way of getting something to wear.

It only takes a few seconds to formulate a terrible idea. It'll get me clothes, and get me safely into Afterlife. For the low, low price of my dignity.

Right now, with the Maelstrom bombs in play, it's a price I'll have to pay.

###########

I always knew the underlayer was skintight. It's just one of those things where you don't quite realise _how _tight it is until you're walking around in a room full of drunk men and women, and this is after the turian guarding the alley entrance smirked after seeing what I was wearing. Plus I'm trying to grab the attention of men who're about my size in clothing. This must be what Miranda feels like. Except all the time.  
Still, it's better than everyone shooting or punching me. And it's only temporary, until I find someone whose clothes I can steal. Before then, I just need to walk around, be as seductive as I possibly can be without turning a lobster colour from embarrassment, and pray to any god or goddess in existence that Melanis doesn't walk into the room. If I can't get someone my size to hit on me in a minute, I'm going to have to be a bit more aggressive with my tactics.

I meet the eye of a drell eying me up as I move around the club, after about thirty seconds of fruitlessly brushing close to some human guys. I'm at the point where I'll take just about anyone, so a drell is ideal. For some reason, that makes it easier for me to go through with.  
It only takes a moment for him to slide in front of me, dark green skin with blue highlights on his neck and ridges. The red lighting makes them glow almost purple and matches extraordinarily well with his dark blue jacket and black pants. He's about my height, maybe a little taller, which admittedly isn't difficult, but otherwise as close to the same build as I'm likely to find. Perfect.

I just need to get his clothes. Time to turn on the charm. Though I suspect the underlayer is selling me fairly well already.

"I'm Silas," he says, voice deeper than Thane's and smooth as...well, smooth jazz. He eyes me with a small smile. "Your outfit leaves very little to the imagination."

"Charles," I reply, bringing a grin onto my face for him. He's clearly interested already, now I just have to make sure he stays that way. "Is that a compliment or a complaint?"

He takes his time looking me up and down, eyes roving over me and making me feel more exposed than I already do with how revealing this underlayer is, before he leans in and says, "Maybe a little of both."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I ask coyly.

"There's just enough hidden to be... intriguing." The last word comes out almost as a growl.

"Well, play your cards right, we can fix that pretty soon," I smile, having to come out direct without time to fuck about with build-up. Silas doesn't seem to mind though, returning the smile as he runs a hand up my arm.

"I'm enjoying the mystery." Then he leans in and whisper into my ear. "For now."

I give a small shudder at his touch, but it's not an unpleasant one. It just feels weird to have his hand ghosting up my arm. "Well, aren't you a patient one," I murmur, deciding to things up by sliding a hand around and over his ass.

Silas reaction is immediate, as he closes the gap between us and presses up against me. Well, from what I can feel, he definitely liked that. "Patience makes the experience more memorable..." He slides a hand down my side, then put his other one on my ass and pulls me even closer. Yep, there's no mistaking he definitely likes this. "For both parties." His tongue grazes across my ear at that last bit, making me chuckle in his grip before I can help myself. This isn't that hard to go along with, in all honesty. It's like Melanis, in a way.

"So if I were to ask you to go somewhere a little more private, you'd say no?" I ask teasingly, grinding against him a tiny bit to give some encouragement.

"Ask and we'll find out," he says, voice surprisingly husky for a drell as he switches to nibbling on my ear and down my neck a little bit, and I can't help feeling a little excited from it, which Silas picks up on with a grin. So fucking reminiscent of Melanis…

"I can't wait long enough to get you to my place," I reply. "But the bathrooms are close and have cubicles, if you'd like to join me..."

Silas smiles and starts leading me towards said bathrooms straight away. Perfect. "I can think of a few good ways to have fun in such a small space."

"Don't keep them all to yourself," I smile.

Silas just gives me a heated gaze, as he opens the bathroom door and turns back to pull me after him. "Not everything fun has to be done lying down," he says, leading us down towards the far end of the cubicles. "How much do you weigh?"

"About seventy kilograms," I say, giving him a lustful stare in return without really thinking. "Why do you ask?"

Silas chuckles quietly to himself, pulling me into a stall and locking the door before answering. "If I told you, that might ruin the surprise." As he says that, he pulls his top off, revealing a scaled and ridiculously toned chest as his jacket falls to the ground. Saves me taking the clothes off his body, I suppose.

Then his hands grab mine, pulling them onto his chest, and I start massaging it slowly, my hands drifting slower and slower to relax him. I can't knock him out when he's facing me, after all, it's too risky in case he dodges. Going along with it is the best solution. "I hate surprises..."

"In that case..." the drell grins, sliding his hands and arms underneath me and holding me up, before slowly unzipping my underlayer from the back. And he's undressing me to switch into his clothes too…perfect. Then one hand slips inside the underlayer and onto my ass. I'm honestly not sure whether that makes the situation better or worse. "Patience requires a certain amount of stamina," he murmurs. "That could make kneeling... rough." He slowly pulls my underlayer down to my chest, his other hand sliding across where my leg connects to my hip and making my breath hitch. Any more of this, and I'm cheating on Melanis. No way is that happening.

"Wait," I demand. "Take your pants off."

Silas gives me a smoky gaze, completely filled with desire as he complies. He lets me back onto the floor, then slowly turns around, pressing his butt against me and slowly sliding his pants down before stepping out of them. I don't give him the chance to turn to face me.

"Sorry, mate," I say, then kick him hard in the back. Silas' head crashes into the door and he drops like a stone unconscious.

I do genuinely feel bad for the poor drell, thankfully lying on front rather than his back as I snatch up his clothes. I quickly yank on the trousers, satisfied that they're only a few inches too big for me, and that his jacket and vest underneath are pretty much perfect fits. The sleeves are a little long, and it is kinda tight, but it's the best I'll get. And I'm not doing this to another guy.

I step over the drell's prone body, leaving my undersuit in the cubicle for him after a second's thought. I'm not going to have him wake up in Afterlife with no clothes at all. He doesn't deserve that. He didn't do anything wrong, after all, he just got used.

Still, I get a small realisation as I walk out of the bathroom; that was nowhere near as bad as I expected. Being honest with myself, it wasn't bad at all. The only real protest I had during the whole thing was about being loyal to Melanis, which obviously I want to be, I'm not changing that, but Silas got fairly physical and…well, it's not like I was having to force myself through with it.

It should have, though. I'm not into guys. I can see how Silas is attractive, I just…I've never been that close to a bloke before, and it wasn't like I couldn't feel everything, and when it came to it I didn't have a problem. But when I think back over what I did, it's not something I'd normally consider. And doesn't explain why I enjoyed it. Hell, I felt _good _about myself when it became obvious I was turning him on. I just know I shouldn't. And it's really fucking confusing.

I sigh, shaking my head. Bombs. I can reflect on what happened there later. I got the clothes, that's what's important, and now I need the bombs. Which leads me straight onto my first target; the bar in the lower area of Afterlife I'm stood in. There's a salarian manning it as I sidle up to the surface, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly as I meet his eyes to get his attention.

"Hey," I say, glancing at the door behind him marked out as a drink's storage area. "Can you help me out? I think my friends hid my wedding ring behind that door." I point to it, the simple lie easily tripping off my tongue.

"You should pick better friends, then," the salarian says, barely even looking up and not exactly sounding sympathetic. "I'm on duty, so every second I waste looking for that ring, Aria loses money. Besides, how did your friends even get into an off duty area?"

"They bribed the batarian who was on before you," I say, remembering the guy who poisons Shepard in ME2. "This is probably what I get for hanging around with someone who used to be a pickpocket."

"Uh huh," the salarian says dully.

"I'm guessing you don't sell a hundred credits worth of drinks in the five minutes it'd take to search for it," I say, slipping my credit chit onto the bar. "You don't even have to help me search."

"And give you access to a room full of drinks."

"You can search me when I leave, if it makes you happy. I'm not trying to pull anything," I say. Except look for a bomb. "Fine. Two hundred credits."

"Get over the bar before anyone sees you," the salarian mutters, turning around and letting me vault over to the door as he turns and unlocks it with a wave of his omni-tool. "Five minutes and you leave, whether you've found it or not. And I'm checking you for any bottles."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," I say, the true meaning of that completely lost on the salarian as I step into the room and he shuts the door behind me. Alright. It's like a small box a few metres each way, and it's absolutely packed with kegs of liquid, human and alien brands of ale, beer, wine and soft drinks, to name but a small few, along with separate bottles lined up all over the place for spirits. No obvious Maelstrom bombs in here. But it's marked on the map, so I must be missing something…

I step between the kegs, brushing against some as their contents slosh around until I reach the back of the room, reappraising it. Nothing leaps out from this angle. Huh. I move towards the right hand side of the room…then step backwards past one particular keg, brushing my leg against it. Any slight shifts against the other ones let me hear things moving around. There's definitely nothing from this one.

I open up my omni-tool and the comm. line to Melanis, then quickly start to unscrew the top of the keg. "_Are you in?" _she asks immediately.

"Had to be creative about it, but yeah," I reply, slowing my movements as the top of the keg loosens and then I slowly lift it off, my stomach sinking as I look down at the tower-esque Maelstrom bomb concealed inside. No timer on it. Just a green light for when it's ready to be detonated, and a red light for when it's in the countdown sequence. Thankfully, this one's still green. "And those marks on the blueprints seem right. There's one concealed inside a beer keg."

"_It's not like Whiteguard could just carry that in," _Melanis says. _"So this is an inside job."_

"See, I knew being around me would hone your detective skills," I reply, putting the lid back on before rolling my eyes. Good work, Ian. That'll stop it. "No wonder Whiteguard didn't just detonate as soon as they actually got the bombs. Putting these things into place must've taken time."

"_Hold on, I'm going into Patriarch's area. The door's locked, so I need to hack it," _Melanis mutters. I wait in silence for a few seconds, before her voice crackles back onto the line. _"No sign of Patriarch. But there's a Maelstrom to the left of the door."_

"I guess he wouldn't have been hard to get on board," I say, looking back out the door. We've got maybe five or ten minutes until Garrus and the others get here, and in all honestly, it's a minor miracle the bombs haven't been armed yet. "We can see how deep this goes after we finish this. We need to find whoever has the detonator."

"_I'm on my way to the woman's bathroom. You head to the antechamber," _Melanis says, then hangs up as I exit the storage area, quickly opening up my jacket to show the salarian I don't have anything.

"No luck with the ring," I say, after he nods to show he's satisfied, letting me vault the bar again and run up the stairs to Afterlife's main dancefloor above. The antechamber is straight ahead…along with a turian guard outside the locked door.

"Sorry, sir. That room's rented out for tonight," he says, raising his hand as I storm towards him. "You want it, get on the waiting list. Though you'll need to wait a few days. It's a popular one."

"Oh yeah?" I ask impatiently. There's not exactly time for subtlety here, so this'll most likely be ugly. "Who's in there?"

"Private party," he growls. "Now fuck off."

"Make me," I say, causing the turian to give a menacing step closer. The narrowed gap means I can quickly bring my hand up and jab it into his throat before anyone gets too good a look, then I quickly support the turian as he starts choking and gasping, guiding him to a bar stool and slipping his omni-tool off his wrist as I do. I quickly jog back to the door and wave his omni-tool in front of the door, unlocking it as it reads the signature and stepping inside before the turian outside can recover.

A batarian, not Shurta but another one, turns to face me as I walk in and the door closes. There's a Maelstrom bomb on the floor, activated, but the green light is still on. More importantly; the batarian's holding what looks like a detonator.

Drawing my pistol and firing gives him more than enough time to start the countdown so I dash forward and lash out with a foot, hitting his wrist and sending the detonator tumbling out of his grip while he's still in shock from my entrance. He retaliates quicker than I expected from a batarian though, immediately giving me a vicious right hook back, and my head whips around as the left hand side of my face explodes in pain and he dives after the detonator.

I follow a second afterwards, but it's a second too late. He grabs it just as I land on top of him, and before I can snatch it away again, I see his thumb smack down on the trigger, with the code presumably inputted already. There's a beep from the bomb next to us…and the green light turns to red. The batarian gives me a satisfied smile, walking forward as if to finish me. With the risk of him pressing the detonator now realised, though, I have no qualms about being able to draw my pistol and shoot him in the kneecaps. He falls to the ground, yelling in a language my translator can't even hope to deal with, as I calmly get to my feet and make sure the antechamber door is locked.

My omni-tool flares for an incoming call, which I answer as I stare at the downed batarian, holstering my pistol. He's unarmed. Presumably, he was expecting to get that bomb in and leave before they detonated. _"I found the bomb in the bathroom," _Melanis explains, sounding panicked as I answer. _"One door had an out of order sign on it, so I kicked it down. The cistern is completely stripped out, and the bomb's in there, which must've been someone on the inside too. But the light on this one is red, not green. What does that mean?"_

"Mel, you need to get out," I say quietly, standing over the batarian who's trying to crawl away and stamping down on one of his bullet wounds, making him howl but stop his little escape attempt. "Don't try to evacuate, it'll just get you shot by Aria's guards. Get out, get the hell away from Afterlife, and tell Garrus and the others to stay back as well."

"_Are you fucking kidding? What about you?" _she demands, sounding even more alarmed from the batarian's yells. _"What are you doing?"_

I pause over the batarian, looking back at the door. Decision time. I could just leave with Melanis. Aria hasn't done us any favours, and if I can't get the cancellation code out of the batarian in about four minutes, I'm going up with everyone else.

But if the bombs go off, it's anarchy. The Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack fight it out, and they all end up stronger in the process. Whatever stability Aria managed to give Omega will be lost. I can't imagine in the station in Blood Pack control. The mere thought of people like Ulron in power fills me with a mixture of dread and anger, as I stare back down at the batarian.

_"It varies from person to person. Fear, love, money, power, everyone has something they're susceptible to," Melanis says. "Unfortunately, we don't have the time or the inclination to work that out with people, so there's one universal trigger. If you want information from someone, you have to understand everyone has a threshold for pain. The faster you can get them there, the faster you break them, the better..."_

"I'm taking some advice," I reply, hanging up the line and pressing my foot down on the batarian's knee again, smiling at the groans he makes as I do as an overwhelming feeling of control rushes over me. I'm in the polar opposite situation of what Ulron put me in, and there's something liberating about that. I know this should feel wrong…but it boils down to me hurting the batarian, or hundreds of people dying immediately, followed by even more in a mercenary war afterwards. This is bigger than me, regardless of any personal opinion.

"Whoever the fuck you are, you're too late," the batarian manages to spit as I lift my leg off, reaching down and pulling the detonator out of his hand. 4:10. "One of Archangel's squad, right?"

"Well, I guess you could say I was too late to stop you arming the bombs," I say casually, running my thumb along the button on my pistol to drop the heat sink, the bass of Afterlife dulled out enough for me to hear the batarian's pained gasps. "But for you on a personal level, I'm too early, aren't I?

"What the fuck are you talking about?" the batarian grunts, as I step on both his wrists, pinning his arms as I grin dangerously at him.

"Well, I'm assuming this wasn't a suicide mission. You were planning to escape after setting the countdown, right?" I ask. The batarian doesn't answer, so I drop the smoking heat sink from the pistol. It burns through the batarian's shirt straight away, making him howl and wriggle to try and get it off, but it's not exactly hard to keep him down with my full body weight. "You gonna say something? Cos I'm surprised you pressed that detonator, honestly. Maybe you thought you could fight your way past me, but you just screwed yourself over, really."

"Fuck you," he hisses, making me lift one foot off and dig it down into the heat sink, his groans turning to screams as I do while he wriggles helplessly.

"Who are you, anyway?" I ask, taking a moment to lean down and check his pockets, pulling out an identity card. "Whiteguard, Skeleet Shirion, Enforcer. Enforces beat up defenceless people to 'enforce' gang law and protection, right? Classy." I flick the card in his face. "If you're looking to die, just tell me now. I'll quite happily shoot you. But see, I don't think you do. You didn't come here to die. So how about you give me the code, and we both walk out of here, okay?"

"If you're so confident I don't want to die," the batarian manages to say, spitting blood as he talks, "why are you doing this?"

"Pain has a way of sharpening the memory sometimes," I reply, kicking the heat sink off his chest, then stamping down on it hard, though as he cries out I realise…he has a decent point. But I don't want to stop now, for the first time in the past day, I'm not feeling powerless. "Consider it some extra incentive." I look at the timer again. 3:10. It's slipping away.

"I'm dead either way," he grunts. "If I leave here without the bombs going off, Shurta'll just kill me."

"I'm sure an enterprising man like yourself knows how to catch a shuttle off Omega," I reply. "And Shurta's not going to be around for long enough to chase you. So don't play that bullshit." The batarian spits blood again, this time aiming it at me, so I yank him up to his feet and slam my fist into his stomach. He splutters as I do it again, seeing Ulron's fist crash into my stomach as I do, again and again, until I shove him to the ground and place my foot on the burn again. "The code! Now!"

The batarian's a mess now, his head grazed from falling to the ground, and his mouth has blood spattered around it along with the floor next to him. "No," he manages to grunt, so I raise my pistol and put a shot right next to his head.

"Code."

"No."

The second shot goes on the other side of his head, even closer now.

"Code, or the next one goes into your head!" I shout. The batarian's pouring with sweat as I point the gun at him, screwing his eyes shut and trying to tilt his head away from the barrell unsuccessfully, the same feeling of power I felt before rushing back as I realise he's completely at my mercy. I check the timer again. 1:02. Shirion doesn't want to die, that's for sure, but I'm running out of options. I still have one idea…

"Fine," I say, tossing the detonator down on his chest. He's got enough left in him to move his hands, but not to get to his feet and escape. "You can burn." With that, I head to the door, ignoring his little moans of pain behind me. I'll come back in thirty seconds and see what he's done.

As soon as I walk out of the room, however, the turian I punched is standing right in front of me. With four other guards behind him. I don't recover fast enough to stop him returning the favour with a punch to my throat.

I fall to the ground straight away, grabbing my neck and gasping in what little breath I can muster before he rolls me onto my front, locking cuffs onto my back. I stare at the door, frantically trying to talk, warn him about the bomb, but I just degenerate into a coughing fit, my difficulty in breathing exacerbated by being tied down, unable to move…

"We're gonna show you some Omega justice, you fucker," he growls, dragging me up to my feet and starting to haul me down towards the lower bar area. I stare back at the antechamber door, my eyes bulging in fear and shock as I struggle wildly, trying desperately to warn the turian, anyone at all…

But as he drags me past Aria's booth, nothing's happened. Aria stares down at me and the entourage of turians, doing a double take as she sees my face, and signals something to Grizz. It's been at least a minute now. There should have been a detonation.

Even through the pain, the fear and anxiety running through me at being held by the turians, I smile slips onto my face. Never underestimate what people will do to live.

"He's one of Aria's," Grizz says, stepping in front of me and the guards with his arms folded. "Let him go."

"Are you fucking kidding?" the other turian growls, flaring his mandibles fiercely. "He hit me in the throat!"

"Do you want to take it up with her?" Grizz asks, flicking his eyes towards her booth. The two turian face each other down, growling lowly, before I feel the turian holding me slip his hands off my arms and uncuff me.

"I see you again, you're dead," he mutters, shoving me to the side as he stalks back towards the antechamber door. I breathe a sigh of relief at my freedom, rubbing my wrists before Grizz steps in front of me, still snarling.

"Aria wants to see you, human," he says. "Now." He doesn't give me a chance to reply, just grabbing my arm and marching me up to her booth where Omega's ruler turns to greet me, smug smile on her face.

"Nice outfit," she notes. I stand facing her, not even cracking a smile. "Come on, sit down. I assume the fact you're not screaming means whatever bomb threat you gave me was either false, or you've solved it."

"There's a bomb in the drinks storage area below us, one in the woman's bathroom, another in Patriarch's room and a final one in that antechamber I came out of," I say. "There'll be a beaten up batarian in the antechamber with a detonator in his hand. I'd tell you to get your men to pick it up, but this thing is so obviously an inside job, I don't think that's a good idea."

Aria's smile quickly turns to a frown as I rattle off the details, apparently jumping to the same 'inside job' conclusion as I did before I even finish talking. "Show me," she says simply, getting up out of her seat and gesturing for me to lead the way. I obey, Grizz and a batarian quickly falling into step behind us as Afterlife's patrons see Aria coming and immediately start making sure they get out of her way as fast as possible.

Which means no-one's looking into the antechamber as we walk in, and Aria's smile slips back onto her face as she sees the unconscious, bleeding batarian. Aria's guards wait outside as the door slides shut.

"You did all this?" she asks, slowly stepping to the batarian and leaning down a little to inspect him. "I'm impressed. Most of my men wouldn't have thought of dropping a heat sink on someone."

"I'm not one of your men," I say stubbornly, as her eyes catch on the detonator…and then the bomb in the corner of the room. The smirk becomes a full on grin after that.

"No, of course not," she says smoothly, brushing past me to inspect the bomb. "Though you certainly did your job for me admirably." I feel sick as I look at her and the batarian. Sick because I just gave her four bombs. Sick because I tortured a batarian and didn't feel anything beyond enjoyment as I was doing it. Sick because I saved everyone in Afterlife, but I still feel like the bad guy.

"My job?" I say, stepping forward angrily. "I saved your fucking life, and exposed the fact that you have a _ton _of moles in your supposedly watertight operation here, and that's doing my job!?"

Aria stares at me impassively, then shrugs. "I asked for you to deliver the bombs. Anything beyond that was up to you."

I let out a small snort of fake laughter. "Just make sure our identities don't come out. We're square."

"If nothing else, I honour my arrangements," she says, chuckling softly. "Consider them forgotten. And as for the people in my organisation you so generously showed I have a problem with, well…suffice to say I'll deal with that."

"You want to deal with that?" I snap. "Then start looking for an organisation called Umbra. They're the ones who bought your people out. Oh, and they're a mutual enemy, so if you find anything, be sure to let me know."

"Look at you," Aria smirks. "Ordering me around."

"Well, Umbra's a problem for you," I mutter. "We all know how much you love using me to solve your problems."

She laughs patronisingly at that, making me shake my head and brush past her towards the exit. I already don't feel good, and my job here is done. I don't need this bullshit too. "Where are you going?" she asks, as I head to the door.

"Out of here," I reply simply. "Unless there's some pressing issue you need to discuss with me."

Aria chuckles, but shakes her head. "Not particularly. But Shaw?" I turn my head at the door, glaring at her. "I'll do some digging into Umbra. If they're really who you say you are, we can help each other out."

"Then get in touch with me when you do," I say. "But don't insult my intelligence by pretending you give a fuck about helping me." With that, I storm out, not bringing myself to look at Aria's guaranteed smirk as I storm towards the door.

I saved all these people.

I tortured a man.

I don't feel a thing.

I need to see Monteague.


	61. Ian vs The Talk

Chapter 61

The Goo Goo Dolls: Iris

I stick my head through the door as it opens, seeing Monteague sat alone at his desk with a load of datapads in front of him. He's probably cataloguing medical supplies, but he turns around to give me an inquisitive look before I can change my mind. Shit. "Hi," I say, sounding and feeling awkward as I walk in.

It's been just under an hour since I had my talk with Aria inside Afterlife. The trip back was a whirlwind inside my head of thoughts, theories and dead ends, trying to work out why I felt what I did, why I didn't feel what I should have. Garrus, Weaver, Sidonis and Melanis picked me up in the shuttle after I recovered my armour from where I left it, and I tried to smile my way through the ride to base, politely laughing at the jokes about my attire and trying to give Melanis reassurance in a non-physical way. Apparently she doesn't want too many of the squad knowing we're together, so we were down to meaningful glances and brushes of contact. Not that I was really in the mood for hugs in the first place.

Showering and getting dressed was spent working out whether or not I still wanted to talk to Monteague. The feeling of numbness had passed by then, replaced instead with a sick sensation as I realised what had happened. The torture itself didn't bother me, and it still doesn't. It was a necessity. Enjoying myself, however, wasn't a necessity. As nervous as I was (and still am) about seeking help, I have to.

So as Garrus started to explain to the squad what happened in Afterlife, and where the Maelstrom bombs are now, I got dressed and headed over to Monteague's room. Part of me wanted to see how the squad reacts to being told Aria has the Maelstroms, but seeing how powerful she is anyway, I suspect it'll be considered better with her than with an ambitious mercenary company. Besides, my mental health seems a more pressing issue.  
Which is how I'm stood in Monteague's office, having completely fluffed my entrance and still considering whether or not to run.

"Hello, Ian," he says politely. I wait for him to bring up me coming to see him like he asks, but he just waits, smiling. Presumably waiting for me to announce why I'm here.

"You, erm...said you wanted to see me after the mission," I say, sounding as nervous as I feel as I start to walk over to him. I still hate the knowledge that there's something wrong with me, plus there's still the lingering risk of being declared unfit for duty. This conversation needs to happen. I'm just worried what I'm going to find out.

"I did," Monteague says, putting his datapads down and swivelling to face me now it's apparent I'm not leaving any time soon. "Of course, I didn't mean you had to come see me right away. I understand the mission was a success?"

"Yeah. No-one got blown up, so that's usually a good sign." I grab a spare chair from under Monteague's desk and pull it out so I'm facing him, then sit down with a sigh. "And I figured coming to see you straight away was a good idea."

Monteague gives a small smile as he looks at me. "You weren't exactly eager when I first proposed it."

"I know. I'm still not eager," I admit. "But I've been thinking about what you said, and then with the some of the stuff in Afterlife..." I trail off, not really sure what else to say. Fuck it. I need to be blunt and honest. That's why we're having this conversation. "I tortured a guy. I did it, and I didn't give a fuck. That's not right."

Monteague's silent for a bit. "What happened?" Oh, he's waiting for me to continue...

"There were armed Maelstroms in Afterlife, he had the code to disarm them," I explain. "So I just went straight to trying to beat it out of him. When that didn't work, I left him for dead." Even as I say it, I feel sickened again. It's what I associate with Melanis. Or Garrus. Not me. I did this.

"There was a time limit, was there not?"

"Yeah, there was. If I hadn't kicked him in, there'd be a whole lot of people dead right now, so I can deal with that. The problem is that I didn't even care when I did it." I sigh again, rubbing the bridge of my nose with two fingers. It doesn't make sense... "I enjoyed myself. I feel like shit saying that. But at the time, I enjoyed it. Same as when Garrus and I cornered Harga and "interrogated" him."

"And what about now?"

"Just this sick feeling."

"I see." Monteague clasps his hands together and fixes me with one of his thoughtful stares, deep black eyes giving the uncomfortable feeling of staring right through me.

"I don't want to enjoy torturing people, Monteague," I say, after a few seconds of silence.

"Did you enjoy the torture, or the control?" The question comes suddenly, as the drell's stare changes to something more contemplative.

"It..." I think back to standing over Shirion, holding his life in my hands. That's when I felt the kick. When it seemed like everything was falling back into place for me. "it was being in charge. He was the helpless one, not me. So yeah, control, I guess."

"Feeling empowered by having control over a situation where you previously did not have control is not abnormal, considering what you've been through recently," Monteague explains patiently, keeping his expression impassive. "The fact that you're sickened now by your perceived enjoyment of the physical act of torture means you probably won't enjoy the ranks of Omega's finest serial killers."

"I didn't kill the guy in Afterlife, so I don't think the serial killers guild would take me anyway." I give a wry chuckle, but it becomes more of a genuine laugh as Monteague joins in. It feels like a weight off when he does, and I find myself relaxing a little bit. I haven't told a joke to anyone but Melanis since Ulron. "The control thing makes sense, but...I don't want it. You say that, and I think to myself it's not what I want. But when I was standing over that batarian it's all I could think about."

"Do you feel as if you've lost control in other aspects of your life?" he asks.

"I guess," I shrug. "People keep bugging me about how I'm feeling, which really doesn't help, but I don't feel social. I get flashbacks if I'm reminded of what happened to me. I had a nightmare about Ulron which I'm guessing isn't going anywhere anytime soon, and there's this lingering feeling that Melanis is the only thing keeping me close to sane right now. I have a fear of krogan, I don't feel anything during torture, and I don't know how to sort it out. So yeah. I'd say I've lost some control." I take a deep breath at the end, now that it's all off my chest. It doesn't solve shit, but at least I've shared it.

"Simply acknowledging your fears is the first step," the drell says. "Understanding why they make you react the way you do is the next." He gives another small pause, before he tone becomes more cautious. "Do you mind if I make an observation?"

"Not at all," I say, shrugging. "It's kinda why I'm here."

"Your relationship with Melanis is one of the few things where you feel you have a sense of control," he points out. "Not to suggest she isn't fierce or that she doesn't like holding the reigns - because she does." There's a brief chuckle after he says that. "Rather, she's something you can rely on to always be constant, to respond in the way you need. How do you feel now, sitting here in the medbay with me?"

"I feel fine," I reply honestly. "A bit uncomfortable because I'm not used to all this, but I'm good overall. Why?"

Monteague gives a slight smile. "Just making another observation. Why do you think you feel fine here?"

"Because you're helping me, and you're a friend?" I shrug, not sure if there's a right answer here or not. "This is one of the rare moments in the past few days where no-one's actively trying to kill me, so that helps too."

"In our line of business, people - to some degree or another - are trying to kill you," Monteague says. I'm half tempted to mutter 'no shit' but decide against it. "That's not something that previously bothered you to the extent that it does now. Something about how you perceive that threat has altered since your experience with Ulron."

"I was just trying to be funny, Monteague," I mutter, but his stern facial expression suggests he's not going to drop it. "I'm not worried about people trying to kill me. Well, I am, but not any more than I have been. I'm worried about being put into a situation where I'm captured again. There's gonna be another thousand Ulrons out there, and my luck isn't infinite."

"There were always going to be another thousand Ulrons out there. Luck doesn't factor into it." Monteague leans in a little closer. "Encountering an 'Ulron' changed the way you perceive these threats. You say you're worried about being captured again. Captivity inherently means a loss of control. That's what your encounter changed. Not a fear of death or being gunned down, but the idea that you could no longer be in control again, that someone or something else controls your fate and you can't change it."

Not changing fate. Sounds like Shiara. And he's right. After me and her parted ways back on the Citadel, I've always been afraid I can't really change what's supposed to happen. "That...yeah. That's true. The whole time I was with him, he kept making a big show of how helpless I was..." My words drift off as I'm talking, memories slipping back.

_On my knees. Broken. Defeated. Ulron's hand around my neck, victory laugh ripping through me._

"Helpless at that time and in that particular situation," Monteague says firmly, snapping me out of it. "Ultimately, you escaped and Ulron died."

"After he broke me, yeah." I say the comment off-hand, but the look on Monteague's face reminds me that I never really told him. Shit.

"What do you mean?" he asks, after a slight pause.

"I told him everything before he died," I say nervously, any comfort that I had instantly vanishing, and suddenly the 'not fit for duty' risk seems a very real possibility again.

"Everything as in... the location of this base?"

I nod.

"Before he died?" Monteague says curiously, presumably storing away the fact I gave everything away for use later. "Not 'before I killed him' but 'before he died'." There's an awkward pause as the two of us stare each other down. "Ian, did someone help you escape?"

"I..." I have to lie. Garrus made up the excuse that the base got attacked by Blue Suns and I escaped in the chaos. It'll do. "Kind of. The place got attacked by Blue Suns. They thought I was just some guy the krogan were having fun with, so they freed me."

"You didn't escape on your own terms."

I fold my arms. "No. I didn't," I say, a mite tetchily.

"I see." He's sat there silently, waiting. Is he going to push it? Because even if I came in here for his help, opening up my origins is a can of worms I don't want to be opening any time soon.

"See what? That I got lucky?"

"Some people in similar situations managed to find resolution by confronting the person who took something away," Monteague says, tilting his head contemplatively. "You were denied that, and I believe it's something that would have been very important to you." I breathe a small sigh of relief as he says that. He's not going to push what happened. Good.

He does make a reasonable point, though. Killing Ulron after everything that bastard did would've been satisfying. Final. I mean, I know he's not coming back, but there's something empty in the fact I didn't pull the trigger. "I dunno. I wanted to kill him, and now he's dead. I just assumed that would be enough."

"You were unable to prove to yourself that you could overcome what he did to you."

"Would shooting him have done that?" I ask. "It wouldn't have changed me breaking."

"No, it wouldn't have changed what had already happened. But the power of closure, of finding resolution, cannot be denied," the drell explains. "What happened because at the hands of Ulron lead you to believe, whether consciously or not, that you were no longer in control of your life. So you seize onto moments that provide you with that sense of control. You enjoy them because they give you something you feel you've lost. Confronting Ulron might have instilled some of what you lost back. If not completely, at least partially."

I pause to think that over. Killing Ulron would've definitely been a good way to prove to myself I'm in control. Nothing quite like turning the tables on someone. "But now he's dead. I can't," I point out. "Does that mean I'm always going to feel like I do now?"

Monteague smiles warmly, shaking his head. "Of course not. If there was only one road to recovery, most of us would be rocking back and forth on our knees, tended by the sheltered few who've managed to avoid any sort of trauma." I can't help but give a grin at that comment. "It was simply one approach that might have made the path easier. Perhaps not. We're here to find another."

"You got any bright ideas so far?" I ask, trying to inject a bit of positivity into my voice. In all honesty, now I can see what the problem is, it helps a bit. I just need to get it into my head I'm in control. As difficult as that is.

"I'd suggest stopping avoiding situations where you feel as if you are not in control, starting with talking to the squad," Monteague says. "You can't avoid them forever. Aside from that, they're your friends and care about you."

That's a good point. If the squad still want to talk to me. "I've kind of been a dick to them, haven't I?" I ask.

"They understand. You've been through a lot in the past couple of days, none of it easily forgettable." He gives a small pause to evaluate his words. "Ultimately you need to accept that not being in control isn't always terrifying."

"And how do I do that?"

"Start by talking to the squad," he repeats, smiling and arching an eye ridge. "You've been avoiding them because you don't want people asking about your well-being. It makes you feel as if you're not in control of yourself when you're confronted with the memory of what happened. If there's only one thing any of us can control in our lives, it's how we react."

Again, of course, he's right. People ask because they care. And until I can talk to them, Ulron's still exerting control over me. "I, uh...I guess I owe a few apologies to people as well," I frown. Sidonis and Butler particularly. The idea of people wanting to delve into what happened to me remains a scary prospect, though. "I still don't want to talk to them, you know? I know I should."

"I think seeing that talking to them isn't as bad as you believe it is will be good for you."

"Not everyone's quite as understanding as you."

"Something with which you arguably need to reacquaint yourself."

I laugh briefly. Monteague's sharp. "Yeah, I guess. It's weird. I know talking to the squad might make me feel better as a person and all that, but...I'm not gonna change back completely, right?"

"Perhaps in time, you may." The drell smiles amicably. "If you stay in my office forever, you certainly won't." I chuckle again, but his smile fades and becomes more serious. "You'll never truly be exactly who you were before, but you can let it strengthen you or you can let it break you. Ultimately, the only one who can make that choice is you."

"I dunno if becoming hardened is a strength or not," I murmur.

"Then don't let it harden you," he says. "Let the experience serve as a reminder of why we do what we do."

"Right," I mutter. Easier said than done. I can sort out how I enjoyed what I did to Harga and Shirion, but the act of torture itself...if I hadn't done it to Shirion, Afterlife would be a crater, and Omega would be in total chaos. I had to inflict some pain on a murderer to save a whole lot of others. Try as I might, I can't think of a single reason why that's bad. Maybe I can get back to my old self with my friends, but from now on, my enemies have another thing coming.

Monteague does have a point. I shouldn't let what Ulron did define me. But there's no escaping the fact my boundaries have changed, and it's not something I want to escape from. It's fine. What's morally wrong; kicking the shit out of someone for information that'll save the lives of innocents, or letting them die because I didn't want to get my hands dirty?

"How long will this take to...well, work, I guess?" I finally ask. "For the flashbacks and stuff to go away?"

"There's no set time table for recovery. The fact that you want to overcome this hopefully means not long," Monteague says. Well...I guess that's something. I can still feel the familiar tremors of fear when I think back to it, but I guess I wasn't expecting some miracle cure. This is going to need work. Ultimately, Ian, you're the one in control of your recovery. If you want to get better, you will. No one here can make you do that." He pauses, then chuckles."Except perhaps Melanis."

I give a quick laugh at that. After what happened in Afterlife, I know I need to get better. Find some way to get control back without torturing people to get it. "You know what she's like. Is it weird she's the only person I've felt normal around?"

"Not at all," he says. We all have our 'someone' who keeps us centered. You've simply found yours."

"Yeah, you're right," I nod. "I figured that'd be Garrus for me, honestly."

"Perhaps it would have been had Melanis not entered your life," the drell shrugs.

"I guess Garrus didn't cuddle me to sleep after I got tortured either."

Monteague grins at that. God, it feels good telling jokes again for once. Making people laugh. "Melanis is surprisingly tender. Just don't hurt her or we'll have a conversation with an entirely different context." There's a dangerous edge to his tone, but he smiles to soften it a bit. The two of them are close friends. Not too surprising he's looking out for her. "There will be fewer words."

"Trust me, I don't think I could hurt her even if I tried," I say, glancing down to a small bite mark on my neck before I can help myself. "But I know what you mean. I won't."

"Good to hear," he says, continuing on with a humour to his tone. "I'm glad you came to see me. I was half afraid I would have to hunt you down just to get you here."

"And the other half is disappointed I robbed you of some sport?" I grin. Monteague laughs again, and my grin grows wider. Conversation seems a remarkably good therapy. "I'm glad I came too."

"Hunting you down might have interfered with plans I made with Laet," he shrugs. Oh, they must be having one of those late night hang outs together. Cool. "Actually, one more thing; I noticed you were wearing something... interesting when you returned."

Oh, he saw that... "I had to 'borrow' someone's outfit to get into Afterlife," I explain.

Monteague's expression becomes even more curious now. "That certainly sounds like an interesting tale." The cynical part of me is nagging me that he's just feigning interest to remind me what I've been missing out on locked away inside myself, but I ignore it. That kind of attitude is exactly what was wrong. I want to tell him about it.

"I was wearing my armour when we got to Afterlife, and I couldn't exactly wear that in, so I stripped down to my underlayer and made out like I was a dancer," I say, rolling my eyes at the grin growing on Monteague's face. "Five minutes and one horny drell later, I got some clothes."

"Oh?"

"I had to think on my feet, don't give me that look."

Monteague laughs, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sorry I missed that, as well as Melanis' reaction. What are you going to do with your newfound attire?"

"Save it for your birthday gift," I say.

"You prancing into my medbay wearing that would be amusing."

I burst out laughing, shaking my head. "That's not what I meant."

"Ah, well," Monteague says, laughing himself. It takes a few seconds for it die away, but we're both wearing grins as it does. "I can't imagine you convincing a drell, horny or otherwise, out of his clothes."

"I didn't have to do much convincing beyond having a nice body," I say jokingly, then pause. "Can I ask you something serious about it, though?"

Monteague leans back forward again, his serious face coming back on. "Sure."

"I..." Ugh, this is weird talking about. It's bugging me, though. "We got quite far, me and him. I mean, I didn't _want_ to do anything with him, I have Melanis and I'd never do that, but...I felt like I enjoyed it."

"I think I missed the question in all that," Monteague says, his voice slightly teasing.

"Why would I enjoy it?" I ask bluntly. "I'm not gay."

"Without delving too deeply into the mystery of sexuality, I'd say the simple fact that another person finds you attractive and is willing to take you at face value can be exhilarating," he suggests. "Besides, we've already talked about you feeling a need to take control. Perhaps having that something was a distraction you needed to take your mind away from your problems."

"I suppose," I say unsurely. "It's just weird. Most people would still be a bit uncomfortable if someone of the same gender started stripping them naked."

"Really?" Monteague asks, in an amused tone.

"I'd assume so, yeah," I reply snarkily, glaring a little bit. "I did say this was a serious question, don't mock me too much."

Monteague raises his hands defensively, but he's still smiling. Having him help me made me temporarily forget how much of a troll he can be. "I assure you I wasn't mocking you." He lowers his hands, settling back in the chair once more. "It's not weird that you enjoyed it or that you weren't uncomfortable. Sexuality isn't binary."

"Binary's less confusing?" I ask with a smirk.

"Certainly, but it's not an accurate representation," he says. "Besides, you're in a relationship with Melanis, so I wouldn't be too concerned."

"Well, yeah, I know," I say, scratching behind my neck awkwardly. "It's just been bugging me slightly. I mean, erm...he did have his hand down my underlayer and, uh, he wasn't leaving much of how he was feeling to my imagination -"

"Just because you enjoyed it doesn't change anything, Ian," Monteague says, smiling reassuringly. "You're in a relationship with Melanis. If you enjoyed it, so what? Don't let it bother you."

I nod slowly. Even if I did enjoy it, that doesn't mean I'm gonna ditch Melanis to find that drell again. It's an irrelevance. "You're right. Sorry to bother you with it."

"You didn't bother me," he smiles. "Anything else you'd like to talk about?"

"Not really," I say, returning the smile. The entire conversation feels like a massive weight off. Now I know what my fears are, at least I can start facing them. "This has helped clear a few things up, I think. I guess understanding why I feel like I do should help."

"I'm glad I could help. If you wish to talk later, I'll be here," Monteague says, as the two of us rise to our feet.

"I will," I say, but glance down before I move to leave as something strikes me. "I had a nightmare about Ulron. They're not going anywhere for a while, are they?"

"Nightmares don't last forever," he says reassuringly.

"I'm just wondering so I can warn Melanis," I explain, only telling a half-lie there. I do want to warn her, after all. I just don't particularly find the prospect of facing Ulron in my dreams a pleasant one. Having the visions overpower them would be a mercy.

"They won't go away immediately," Monteague explains, leaning against his desk. "But now that you've begun the healing process, perhaps they'll be less severe or less frequent."

"Alright," I nod. "I guess that's better than nothing. Thanks for -"

"Hey, sorry I'm late," a flanging voice says, and I turn to see a flustered looking Laet hurry into the room, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand. "I..." His eyes alight on me, and widen in surprise. "Couldn't decide which flowers would fit the room best. I didn't realise we were having company."

Monteague accepts the flowers from Laet, putting them on his desk with a smile. They must be hanging out tonight, like Monteague said. That's really thoughtful of Laet to bring flowers for the room. "Ian stopped by for a quick chat," Monteague says, sounding amused. "If we kept him here, Melanis would hunt the both of us down and have our heads."

"Oh, just a quick chat," Laet says, surprised expression still on his face. "Okay. I thought something else with that outfit he came back in." I give him a weird look as he says that, raising an eyebrow and frowning. "Just forget I said anything."

"Consider it forgotten, mate," I say, not quite sure what he's talking about as I turn back to Monteague, who has a rather large smirk on his face.

"Garrus and the others are having a get together out there to celebrate saving Afterlife," Laet adds. "Which I hear we should be thanking you for, Ian."

"Just doing my job," I chuckle. Doing my job and working through psychological issues. "You're not bothered by Aria having them?"

"Aria could have orbital strikes if she called the right people," Laet shrugs. "They're a deterrent to her, not a weapon. I'd rather they were used for that then a bunch of mercs blowing up everyone who looks at them funny, and I'd say the rest of the squad agree, considering the amount of drinks out there." He points a talon over his shoulder. "I was thinking you and I take a bit in here and then we go out to see them, Monteague?"

"I like the sound of that," the drell says, low trilling noise in his voice as he smiles at Laet. "Will you be joining them, Ian?"

My first instinct is to say no, but I need to do this if it's going to help as much as Monteague claims. "I think that sounds like a good idea," I nod, and Monteague's smile grows even wider. "Thanks for all this."

"You're welcome," Monteague replies. I slip out quite quickly, due to Laet's impatient look now we've established I'm not staying in the room with them.

That...that was better than I expected. Everything feels more normal, I guess, now that Monteague's put it into perspective. And I can link it back to what's happened to me. I've never felt quite so helpless as I did with Ulron, so clamouring to gain control back isn't much of a surprise. There's just plenty of better ways to do it.

Like talking to the squad. I glance over at the living room from where I'm standing outside Monteague's office, and see literally the whole team gathered there asides from myself, Monteague and Laet. Even Grundan and Vortash are there, sitting at the sidelines as I see Butler and Garrus knock their respective bottles together, before erupting into laughter at some unheard joke.

Tonight, we saved a whole lot of lives. We did something good. For one time in these past few days, I want to remember what it feels like to be the hero. Celebrate a success. For one night, forget about my troubles.

So I walk forward, smiling to myself at the small cheer my arrival earns, and I drop onto the sofa next to Melanis, sharing a coy smile as her talon gently brushes over the palm of my hand.

For now, as brief as this moment might be, I'm in control.

**A/N: Hey, sorry this took so long. I've had getting back into school to deal with, as well as getting advice on the psychology behind this chapter so it's not me BSing, haha. **

**Just in case the chapter didn't make it blindingly obvious, Ian's not going to magically revert back to normal. This is the start of the recovery process. Character development is a wonderful thing.**

**Oh, and it's my birthday. Special birthday chapter! :)**

**See you next time!**


	62. Ian vs The Honesty

Chapter 62

The Killers: Smile Like You Mean It

"So the turian says to me, that's no' my sister, that's my brother!" Butler says, making the whole congregated squad roar with laughter as he takes another swig of his beer, grinning wildly as he does.

The celebratory party has been going on for about two hours now, and despite my initial misgivings and shyness in the company of the squad and an already tipsy Butler, I've not been able to help but fall back into the swing of things. I got sandwiched next to Butler and Melanis straight away, and with the Scot's loud enthusiasm, Melanis' talons gently scraping along my skin when no-one's paying us any attention, and Ghost sitting at my knees happily, well…it's hard for your mood not to improve.

Oh, and as for Shurta and Whiteguard, there's no doubt in any of our minds that Umbra will cut his funding. Bastard'll be bankrupt within days, and then we can take care of him at leisure. For now, the main thing we can do is wait to see if having Aria help find Umbra gets us anywhere.

"You're a special type of idiot," Weaver sighs from across the room.

"Don't get arse-clenched just because you've no' got a sex drive," Butler counters, rolling his eyes. "It's not like you've gottae worry about these things."

"I do not see all that much confusion between a male and a female turian," Erash says calmly, as Weaver gives Butler a firm, unblinking glare. "Females have shorter spurs and fringes."

"I was pissed, and I must've misplaced my measuring tape somewhere," Butler says. "Besides, I dinnae even know that. It's easy for a turian to say."

"You know," Melanis says, leaning forward and widening her mandibles in a sarcastic grin. "I always found that female turians have, well, female voices."

"They don't have dicks either," I helpfully add, leaning forward and rubbing Ghost behind the ears as he purrs. "Just a tip."

"We werenae doing much talking, alright?" Butler replies, throwing one arm up in frustration as he chugs the rest of his beer. He's not the only one drinking, of course. Asides from Laet and Monteague, for once, the entire squad is here. I was expecting people to be disgruntled about the fate of the Maelstroms…but Laet's point was a good one. Better with Aria than mercs who'll definitely use them. Besides, none of them know about our deal with the devil to keep our identities safe, and what they don't know won't hurt them. Best to keep it that way, for all our sakes.

Grundan's having a good time, though, a small smirk on his face betraying any emotion as he sips his own drink. Vortash has his mandibles widened a little in amusement, and Sensat is laughing, though I'm not totally sure she knows why. All back to one, big, happy family. As much as we can be, anyway. I still feel a bit on edge and nervous, but Monteague said that was natural. This is part of the healing process, and I need to get used to it again. Besides, it's not like I'm not having fun here. It just feels…weird. Like I've been in seclusion and suddenly thrust back into society.

"Speaking of awkward experiences, don't you still have those clothes you came back to the base in, Ian?" Garrus asks teasingly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say innocently, slipping back into our usual banter as if nothing's wrong. Which it isn't. Just got to keep telling myself that. "Those were my normal clothes."

"Riiight," Garrus drawls. "Because you're always wearing drell clothing."

"It's comfortable," I protest. "Don't discriminate because of what species I am. You turians are all racist."

"You stole it off a drell?" Sidonis asks, his voice deadpan. "I assumed it was from one of the asari dancers in Afterlife instead."

"Oh, funny," I say sarcastically, as the others burst out laughing. Sidonis cracks a little smile at me, which I return, a little shyly. With my recent moods and all, I know I've been a prick to him, and honestly, I want to clear the air. Especially with how close it must be to Shepard coming back. At this point, I'm finding it just about impossible to see why Sidonis would betray us, but I don't want to incentivise him with a grudge against me. "That reminds me, Sidonis, my sniper rifle bolt keeps jamming."

"So get Laet to sort it out," he shrugs. It seems impolite to talk over everyone else about this, so I get up and walk over to him, giving Melanis' hand a small squeeze as it slips out of mine. Ghost cocks his head at me as I do it, making to follow, but Melanis starts scratching under his chin and I know he can't resist those talons.

"Laet's with Monteague right now," I say, as the peripheral conversation turns towards a joke about how many krogan it takes to work an omni-tool. "And I'm absolutely clueless with guns."

Sidonis gives me a look up and down, the way his mandibles quirk upwards suggesting that he knows there's more to this than just gun repairs. "Fine," he sighs, getting to his feet too. "Let's get it done now, then." He grabs his bottle of turian ale in one hand, following me off towards the lockers near the entrance of the garage until we're in relative private. "There's nothing wrong with your sniper rifle, is there?"

"I haven't used it in a while, so I'm not actually sure," I say, rummaging around in my locker for it. "But it's not why I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I was having quite a good time, so I wouldn't mind getting back there," he says irritably, and I see him standing with his arms folded as I turn back around with the sniper rifle. "What is it?"

For a moment, I feel a flash of anger at his attitude and posture, but I quickly suppress it. He has every right to be angry. I'm not going to lose control and be angry myself. "I've been pretty shit to be around recently," I say bluntly, pulling back the bolt on the gun and shrugging. "Totally fine. Anyway, yeah." I slap my hands against the side of my legs, realising I had no idea where this was going a few seconds too late.

"And…?" Sidonis says, tapping his foot and narrowing his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I reply. "I mean, we both know I've not been myself recently, but that's not much of an excuse so…sorry." Sidonis still looks impassive. "I'd say I'm sorry some more, but it sort of gets to the point where the word loses value when you overuse it," I explain, at the point now where I'm unable to stop talking until he shows some kind of response. "And now I'm not really coming across as genuine. Sorry." I pause as I realise what I said. "Shit."

Sidonis tries to keep a straight face for a few seconds, but I can see his mandibles quiver before he bursts out into a flanging laugh as I stand there, suddenly wanting to disappear or plain die to spare myself any more embarrassment. "Awkward apology accepted," he finally manages to say. "As fucking awful as that was."

"Oh," I say, feeling a bit surprised. "Thanks. No grudge?"

"I'd have a grudge if you hadn't come back to the squad," Sidonis shrugs. "But you did. And then stopped four Maelstrom bombs from blowing up Afterlife. And had the common decency to apologise to me. So by turian standards at least, we're fine." He rolls his eyes at my pleased smile. "Do you want that handshake thing you humans do?"

"That'd be nice."

Sidonis reaches out a three fingered hand to me, letting me take hold and shake it before his grip suddenly changes, talons curling around my wrist. "Then this a wrist clasp. What turians do instead." I get my fingers around his in return, and he lets go, seemingly satisfied. "Alright. If you're done, can we get back to drinking?"

"Don't hold back on my account, mate," I say, letting Sidonis walk back off towards the sofa as I scratch the back of my head. Monteague was right. People are a lot more understanding than I give them natural credit for. Plus Sidonis taught me something there, so he really isn't joking about there being no grudge. It's…odd. I look over at the turian, already sat down and back to joking with the others, and once again the idea of him being our betrayer just doesn't add up.

I look over at Garrus, laughing with the others too. He'll have got the message I sent to him about Sidonis…now I just hope he believed what was in it.

As I make my way back to the sofa, I notice to my surprise Monteague walking in, catching the drink Butler tosses to him before flopping down next to Melanis in the spot where I was sitting before. He sees me as I walk in and smiles, but with him, I can never tell if it's a smile of greeting or a smile of "ha I stole your seat you mad".

"Laet didn't want to join us?" I ask, not really sure where to sit now, so I just perch on the arm of the sofa next to Melanis. "I figured you guys were going to hang out all night like usual."

"Laet is distracted today," Monteague says, smile slipping off his face as he sighs. "Not something I blame him for. He decided to retire to his room for the night."

"Huh," I mutter. Laet's not usually the type to miss a good party… "Well, I can at least get him some ale or something, right?" I beckon towards one of the bottles on the table near Garrus. "Come on, chuck one over."

Monteague doesn't look too happy at that suggestion, but eventually shrugs. "I suppose he might appreciate it."

"Cool," I say, getting to my feet again. "I'll be back in a few minutes, then." No-one save for Melanis and Monteague really acknowledge that last sentence, so I just head off towards Laet's workshop rather than repeating myself.

It's locked when I get there, so I knock against it three times, waiting for a response or for the door to be unlocked. Neither happens. "Laet, it's Ian!" I call through. "I brought you a drink!"

I'm about to turn around and leave as the door slides open, a tired looking Laet staring down at me. His mandibles are drooping, and there seems to be moisture around his eyes. "Thanks, Ian," he says, flanging voice a bit uneven as he talks. "I don't really feel like coming out to the party, though."

"I'm not here to persuade you," I reply. My initial plan was to get him a drink and leave, though obviously that's out of the question now. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he says, giving a weak smile. I fold my arms in reply, not budging. "I…you know, whatever, come in," Laet sighs. "You're as good a person as any to talk to."

I step past him, glancing around the workshop as I do. Everything's packed away quite neatly, so it doesn't look like he's working on anything. He just came here to get away. "Did Monteague upset you?" I ask, as the door slides shut.

"Oh, Spirits, no," Laet says, shaking his head as he walks over to the work bench, rests the bottlecap on top of it, then slams his palm down on it to open the ale. "He'd never do that. Just in my current mood, it didn't feel right being with him."

"And your current mood is…" I start saying, then glance down at the floor under the work bench, seeing a few shards of glass and picture frame face down. Laet's has what I assume is said picture in his hand, staring down at it as his mandibles flutter in a sad expression. Most pictures are digitally stored for viewing these days, but something about a tangible copy has never really been beaten, so people choose to get prints too. It doesn't take a genius to work out who that picture is of, though. "How long has it been?" I ask gently, moving towards the workbench and leaning next to him.

"Two years today," Laet mutters, looking down at Darrael. The resemblance is clear. Same brown eyes, small green clan marks across his mandibles and forehead, toothy smile for the camera in his military outfit. "I've been trying not to think about it all day. Especially after you stopped the Maelstroms. Didn't want to put a downer on everyone else's mood just because of me." He makes a small sniffing noise after saying that, folding the picture away and closing his eyes. Turians aren't ever really comfortable displaying emotion like this.

He's not the only one feeling terrible. I know who's responsible for what happened, in a roundabout way, and I'm protecting him at Laet's expense. "It's not selfish to remember, Laet," I say, hovering my hand awkwardly before deciding to squeeze his arm comfortingly. I'm not telling him for Erash's sake. If I can at least talk him out of what he's feeling, my guilt'll be offset a bit.

"I know," he replies, sighing again. "I just wish I had…you humans call it closure, I think." Oh, great, this is just making the guilt _way _worse. "A whole Cabal goes missing, and I was only ever able to find their ship was stolen. Not who did it, why they landed on Omega of all places, what happened to Darrael." He lets out a small chuckle. "I never really wanted to leave the Citadel, even when Garrus asked. I did this for Darrael's sake. Is that selfish or not?"

"Everyone has their own reasons for being here," I say. "What matters is that we've helped people because of those reasons, so I wouldn't say it's selfish. You did what anyone would have done. If anything, giving up the life you had on the Citadel was selfless, even if you did lose that N7 deal."

"I didn't lose it, I gave it up," he replies, shaking his head. "If Garrus had known that was still on the table for me, he'd have insisted I didn't ruin my life coming here. So when he asked about it, I just said they'd pulled my contract."

Wow. I know how much Laet enjoys his work, so letting N7 work go to come here… "You gave up everything," I murmur quietly.

"For all the good it did me," he mutters. "That romanticised idea I had of finding Darrael and taking him back to Palaven never really came through." Laet sighs, blinking his wet eyes open and looking at me. "I'm sorry. Here I am saying I'm trying not to put a downer on people's moods, and I'm putting all this on you."

"It's alright," I say, feeling horrific as I try to smile like nothing's wrong. But it is. As much as Laet tries to hide it, this Darrael thing is ripping him apart.

Telling him about Erash won't bring Darrael back. It won't change anything that's happened. It gives Laet _something, _though. Knowing what happened could be the first step to the closure he's talking about.

I have no idea what he'd do if I tell him. For all I know, he might kill Erash. Whatever happens, it won't be pretty, for sure. Watching Laet get more and more depressed over it isn't pretty either, though, especially when I'm his friend with the power to actually help him. And Erash did practically say he _wants _me to tell Laet…

"I think I'm going to go to bed, actually," Laet says, pushing himself off the workbench, still sniffing gently as he looks to the door. "Thanks for trying to help, Ian."

"No problem," I say weakly, getting up and walking to the door, each step away heavy with what I'm carrying. I try to block out the noise of Laet's little sniffs, try to ignore empathising with what he's feeling, but I can't. I can't do it anymore. I can't let a friend suffer like this anymore.

So I stop dead in my tracks, and turn around.

"Erash served on the _Taurcan _with Darrael," I say. "He's…" I don't want to say responsible, since it's not really true. Erash reacted because of what his superiors did. "He was part of what happened to it."

Laet blinks a few times, tilting his head to the side. "What?"

"He was on your brother's Cabal," I say, noticing the shift in Laet's expression from tearful to fury, his teeth baring in a low snarl. "Look, I only found out a few days ago, I didn't know how to tell you…" Laet's stepping forward now, and I flinch as he reaches me, expecting a punch or something, but instead he walks straight past. Oh God, he's going to find him directly. "Laet, come on, let's talk about this first!" I shout, but he's out the door before I can finish the sentence.

Shit.

I run out after him, getting into the living room just in time for Laet to walk over to where Erash is sitting, grab the other turian by the shoulders, pull him up and punch him square in the jaw. Sensat yells and scrambles away, Vortash instantly placing himself in front of her protectively. The first punch staggers Erash, but the second one knocks him to the ground, Laet's mandibles and teeth bared wide as he makes to continue. Butler's grabbed him by then, though, quickly helped by Sidonis as Garrus moves to Erash. The rest of the squad are all stood up, looking at the scene warily as Laet struggles furiously. Erash runs a talon down the side of his face where he got hit, but his expression looks sad rather than pained. He knew this was coming.

"Laet, what the fuck are you doing?" Sidonis shouts, his voice strained from the effort of holding the turian back.

"Where's Darrael, you bastard?!" Laet yells at Erash, still trying to wrench his arms free. "What did you do?"

Everyone's gaze turns to Erash as he looks to Garrus, then all around the room, letting out a sigh as he slowly gets to his feet. I think the rest of the squad know who Darrael is, so I don't think the gravity of the situation is lost on anyone. Monteague in particular is staring at Laet with concern written all across his face. "Your brother is dead, Laet," he says. "Mercenaries attacked the ship and killed the crew when we stopped for an emergency refuel."

"Then how come you're still alive?" Laet growls. "Did you help the mercs? How could they beat an entire Cabal?"

"The Cabal crew was mostly unconscious at the time of the attack," Erash says, somehow managing to keep his voice at its usual calm level as a trickle of blue blood goes down the side of his face. "I did not help the mercenaries. At least…not deliberately." His voice wavers as he says that, but he keeps eye contact with a still growling Laet. "I had been wrongly incarcerated by our commanding officer for protecting the rest of the crew from him. As an innocent man who would have lost any court martial case, I chose our stop on Omega to escape."

Pretty much every pair of eyes around the room except mine and Laet's widens at that revelation, seeing as I'm the only one who knew already and Laet's too busy growling, making the occasional wriggle to punch again. His expression is completely murderous. If Sidonis and Butler let go, I honestly think Laet will kill Erash. "And you left the crew knocked out for the mercs," Laet hisses. "They died because of you. Darrael died, because of you."

"He did. They all did," Erash nods, a sad tone in his voice. "I will not ever forget what I am responsible for. But believe me, it was not my intention-"

"Do you think I give a _fuck _what your intentions were?" Laet yells. With a sudden lurch, he manages to break free of Sidonis and Butler, and he's straight on Erash again, both of them tumbling to the floor. "You killed my baby brother, you fucking cunt!" Laet screams, slamming his elbow into Erash's face, and Erash doesn't even bother defending himself as Laet's hands wrap around his throat.

"Enough!" Garrus shouts, trying to get Laet off Erash too as Sidonis and Butler pull at him. Vortash has Sensat hugged against his chest at this point, not letting her look, and Melanis has lead a furiously barking and growling Ghost away as I look on, utterly horrified and at a loss of what to do as Erash lets Laet choke the life out of him, his hands refusing to come undone even as the others try to pull him off. "ENOUGH!" Garrus' voice thunders through the room as he finally manages to pull Laet off with a huge heave.

A silence descends upon the room, save for pants of breath and Erash coughing as he clutches at his throat, gasping air back in. "Get him out of my sight," Laet finally whispers, his voice low and dangerous as he talks. "Get him off Omega, or I'll kill him."

"Laet," Erash gasps, trying to meet the other turian's eyes as Garrus, Sidonis and Butler pin him. "I am sorry. Truly. I understand why you want me dead."

"If you're so sorry, so guilty, then why haven't you killed yourself already and saved me the trouble?" Laet spits. Erash closes his eyes at that, and it looks like he's slowly nodding to himself as Garrus pulls Laet up and looks at Sidonis and Butler.

"Get him out of here," he says. They lead Laet away straight away, and I can't bring myself to meet the turian's eyes. Monteague tries to catch up to him, saying something I don't hear, but Laet blanks him completely and leaves him standing in the middle of the corridor as Laet's pulled back into his workshop.

Then Garrus turns to Erash, who's still sat in the middle of the floor, resting his arms on his legs and staring down at the ground. Everyone else left in the room is looking too, and their gazes aren't sympathetic. "You leave, tonight," Garrus says, and I can scarcely believe how cold his voice is when he says that. "We can give you enough money to get off Omega and go anywhere you want. That's it."

"As you wish," Erash nods. "I shall gather my things." He gets to his feet, but no-one looks like they want to stop him as he walks off towards the dorm, uncomfortably looking away as his gaze passes over them. Being confronted with a friend being responsible for the death of another friend's brother is…awkward, to say the least.

I sidle up to Garrus, who lets out a low sigh as Laet disappears into the dorm. "We can't just…let this blow over?" His brow ridges furrow at that. Okay, this isn't something that blows over. Laet'll kill him if he stays, and I don't think anyone will really stop him after this point. Fair warning and all that. Plus this is a team of vigilantes. "Can I at least say bye?" Garrus nods silently, letting me quickly jog up the stairs and glance into the room.

Erash is crouched down at his bunk, reaching underneath the bed to pull out his armour and rifle case. Asides from them, his e-reader and another pair of casual clothes, he doesn't have anything else. He doesn't look up as I walk in, so I clear my throat as I reach him, not sure what to say as he looks up. Christ, he looks so depressed…

"I'm sorry," I finally say. "I…I had to tell him."

"I understand, Ian," Erash replies, getting to his feet and placing a hand on my shoulder. "Laet deserved the truth."

"Yeah, but you don't deserve this," I say. Deep down, Erash probably wanted the truth to come out, but I think what he wanted was forgiveness. Something he never got. "I haven't solved anything."

"Yes, you have," he says calmly. "Perhaps Laet can find peace about his brother, in time. The truth can help him."

"It doesn't help you," I reply. I never thought this would lead to a happy ending, but whatever idealistic scrap is left in me made me hope for a good resolution. Further proof that idealism is really stupid.

"It does." Erash glances past me, at Omega outside. "Laet said some interesting things. Made some points for me to consider."

"Whoa, Erash, no," I say quickly, shaking my head. If he's talking about what I think he's talking about, then…no. I can't have my actions make him do what I think he's talking about doing. "Laet was wrong."

Erash gives me a pained smile, meeting my eyes again. "I am an outcast, Ian. My own race views me as a dead man, the group that gave me purpose needs me gone. My life is spent trying to redeem myself from the irredeemable."

"No it's not," I say, putting my hand on top of his. I need to be in control, like Monteague said, even if I'm quietly freaking out. I say the wrong thing…I can't even think about saying the wrong thing. "You're not a bad person, Erash, and what happened wasn't…" I'm about to say 'down to you', but Erash and I both know he played his part. "You couldn't have done. What you did, you did for the right reasons."

"It is small consolation," he shrugs.

"Erash, for fuck's sake, you don't believe that," I say firmly. "You made a mistake. But in ending up here, think about all the other lives you've saved."

Erash sighs again, shaking his head. "It is not as simple a matter as 'balancing the scales', so to speak."

"Maybe not," I say. "But it's something. It's better than what you're thinking."

Erash stares at me for a few seconds, then starts nodding slowly. "Perhaps. I…I do not feel what I have done has redeemed me. Laet could not forgive me. You yourself said you would never look at me the same way."

"Then I was wrong," I reply, placing my hand on his shoulder too. "When you told me the truth, I was shocked. But it doesn't change who you are. I don't know who you were before you came to Omega, but to me, you're Erash. You're the sniper who Omega owes a debt of gratitude to. Whoever you were before, leave him behind with the _Taurcan._" I squeeze his shoulder slowly. "I've nothing to forgive Erash for."

There's silence for a few seconds, then Erash pulls me into a hug. "Thank you," he breathes, then lets me go. "What you say is…interesting too."

"As long as it's more interesting than what Laet said, I'm happy," I say, trying a smile. Erash returns it weakly, but at least he returns it.

"I believe it is," he nods. "I wish we did not have to end things like this."

"You have my omni-tool address," I say. "No-one ever said this was the end."

Erash chuckles, the sound making relief bloom in my chest. "I shall bear that in mind."

"I can walk you to the spaceport, you know," I say, thinking back to what happened to me, and inwardly shuddering at the thought of the same thing happening to Erash. It won't. He'll be fine. If I spend time worrying about it, it's just going to come flooding back to me.

"I would like to go alone," Erash replies. "I feel Laet would not approve of you doing such a thing. But I appreciate the offer."

"No problem," I say. Hopefully Laet will be able to get over me not telling him straight away. I really hope he does, anyway. I don't want to lose him as a friend. Erash picks up his cases, but I catch him on the arm before he walks past me. "Good luck, mate. Keep in touch."

"I shall," he nods, flexing his mandibles in a small smile. "Good luck, Ian." With that, he walks out of the dorm. I watch him head out through the living room, saying nothing to the squad members watching him leave, and when I switch over to the other balcony to watch him across the bridge, he doesn't look back.

"At least you're safe away from here," I mutter to myself, turning around and walking downstairs towards Melanis' room. I need a sit down.

################

**Twenty minutes later…**

Thinking things over still isn't making me feel all that much better about what happened. I figured telling the truth would let me feel better by giving Laet closure, but right now all I seem to have done is make him want to rip Erash limb from limb. And now Erash has left, and even if I've got suicide off the forefront of his mind, it's still in there somewhere.

Of course, if I hadn't told Laet, he'd still be searching for answers about his brother, and finding nothing. The happy squad would have been a lie. Just another situation where neither solution was what I wanted. Gotta love 'em.

I hear the soft sound of the bedroom door sliding open, feet padding lightly over the carpet towards me, then the bed flexes next to me as Melanis sits down. "That certainly was one way to end a party," she finally says, breaking the thoughtful silence. "Though I've seen worse."

"I really don't know how that's possible," I reply. I didn't want it to end like this. I don't know how else it _could _have ended, but that's where optimism gets you. At least Erash is safe.

"No one died," Melanis points out, as if it's some kind of major positive. "That very well could have happened if you hadn't told Laet."

"I don't get it," I frown, looking up and meeting her eyes. Laet was clueless before I mentioned it. "This happened because I told him."

"But imagine if Laet had found out on his own."

I consider it briefly. If Laet had somehow miraculously discovered things on his own accord...well, I saw how angry he got. I didn't think he had that in him. Without anyone else around to control him, that could have been a lot, lot worse. "Alright, that's true," I admit. "But I don't think he ever would have." I sigh, looking back down again. "Besides, I dunno if I did the right thing."

"I'm not sure if there was a _right_ thing to do," Melanis says, squeezing my arm gently. "But I think you did the _best_ thing."

"For who?" I ask. Best thing for Laet was the truth. Best thing for Erash was hiding it, really."

"For _you_, Ian," Melanis says. "I can't imagine what you were feeling keeping that a secret from Laet. You needed to tell him, not just for his sake, but for yours as well."

The sad thing is, keeping the secret wasn't even that hard until I saw Laet looking at his picture. I guess keeping my own for four years helps with that. "Yeah, I guess you're right," I say, not wanting to dwell on my own secrets. "It was better for me. But it wasn't about me, it was about them. Erash has had years of unfairness and it didn't stop with us."

"Which means he's more than capable of dealing with it," Melanis explains, rubbing a talon across my shoulder now. "That may sound harsh, but I almost think he wanted Laet to find out. Keeping that secret was probably worse on him than it was on you."

It's true. Erash was practically urging me to tell Laet when he let me know. Maybe he didn't get the atonement he wanted from Laet, but he's no longer a liar, and I've been able to help him move on. That means a lot, especially to a turian. "Right again," I say, giving a small chuckle. "You're too wise for your own good sometimes."

"And don't you forget it," she says, with a small smile. "I'll always be here if you want to talk about anything."

"Didn't you start this conversation with me?" I ask, turning my head and raising an eyebrow. For now, what happened with Laet and Erash is done. Hopefully the former will calm down...and the latter won't do anything stupid. I'll make a point of getting back into contact with him. But for right now, there's nothing I can do. And I'm not ruining things with Melanis because of that.

"Only because you were too thick to come to me first," she counters.

"No, I was moping. You interrupted. I would've come to you eventually."

"Yes, but you didn't come to me first. That would have saved you a good bit of moping."

"I'll bear that in mind next time I have a moral crisis."

"Good," Melanis smiles, deflecting my sarcasm. "That means I can spend more time making you feel better afterwards." As she says that, she reaches into a pocket in the back of her clothes. Eh? "And I have just the thing for that." Her hand comes back around, and in it...is a bright orange bottle.  
Tupari.

I stare at the bottle for a few seconds, expecting the illusion to break any second, but the bottle remains in her hands. This isn't right. "Fuck off," I finally say. "I know that's either empty or has water in."

Melanis rolls her eyes, pushing the bottle out towards me insistently. "Does it look like I've broken the seal to mess with it?"

"I'm sure you have your methods," I mutter, feeling the plastic in my hands as I unscrew the sports cap and take a sniff. Smells...kind of orangey. I think. "Is this actually legit?"

"Yes, and you completely ruined the moment with your skepticism."

"Hey, it's not like you've given me reason to be optimistic about this sort of thing," I point out, lifting it to my lips and glancing over to Melanis, who's staring eagerly. Almost two years waiting. Here goes nothing.

I take a few deep sips, swallowing cautiously before I put the bottle down and meet Melanis' gaze fully. "Wow." I bark out a short laugh. "That's actually fucking disgusting."

Melanis laughs too, flanging voice rolling through the room as her mandibles click together. "See. There's a reason I kept you away from it."

I try taking another experimental sip, but it still tastes the same. "Ugh, no, no," I mutter, putting it on the bedside table. "I'd say that's about one up from drinking urine, but not much further." I pause at Melanis' amused expression. "I wouldn't know, by the way, I'm just assuming."

"Good," she says, laughing again. "I don't want my boyfriend drinking piss."

"We have absolutely killed whatever moment that was supposed to be."

"Then we'll just have to make a new moment, won't we?" Melanis says, with a coy smile.

"Fine by me," I say, smiling back and gently pressing my forehead against hers. "I'll never say no to you trying to make one."

"Oh, so _I_ have to make the moment?" she asks, her voice teasing. "It's nice to see how committed you are."

"Well, personally I blame you for ruining the last one," I say, chuckling as she elbows me lightly in the ribs, "so it seems fair."

Melanis gives a small growl and shoves me playfully in the shoulder. "You're the one who didn't just take the Tupari like a good boyfriend."

I laugh, letting myself fall onto my back at her push and look up at Melanis' grinning face. "Fine. Is it a moment to say those growls are really kind of hot?"

She gives another growl, her eyes glinting as she plays along. "It's a start."

"I don't think it's a healthy relationship if I have to do all the work," I say, pulling myself back into a sitting position and giving her my best charming smile.

"But this isn't work; this is fun," she replies, trying to push me again. "And I can think of ways to make it _more_ fun."

"Awfully selfish to keep them to yourself," I say, trying not to laugh as I take a mock-chastising tone. "Relationships are about sharing too."

"Well...a girl can't give away all her secrets, can she?" Melanis asks rhetorically, moving closer to me. "But since you asked so nicely..." She gently leans down and nips my shoulder, and this time there's no armour to get in the way, just a thin layer of fabric which she pulls to one side to get onto my skin.

"Maybe a gift of my own can help loosen your tongue, then?" I ask after a few seconds of biting, and lean under the bed as Melanis gives me a look of curiosity...before I pull out the C-Sec cuffs I grabbed while going to the bathroom during the party. Her eyes practically light up as I pull them out. "Guess what I found. Well, it's not really a guess, seeing as they're here. Tell me what I have."

"You actually found the cuffs," she says, giving a strong purr that rumbles through me from our contact. "Well that certainly increases the possibilities." Melanis takes them out my hands, quickly inspecting them as I chuckle.

"You know, I thought this was supposed to be a romantic moment, not an equipment inspection."

She looks back up, giving me a slightly evil grin as she does. I'm not sure whether to be scared or turned on. "This certainly was romantic for me. I suppose I could return the favor." She runs a talon down my shirt, with just enough force to make me shudder as it traces down my skin.

"I always wondered if those talons are sharp enough to rip fabric..." I murmur, sliding my fingers along her forearm as it continues down. Melanis gives a coy smile, applying enough pressure to rip the bottom of my shirt before her hand comes up to cup my face.

"Well," I say, leaning against her hand and closing my eyes. "Unfortunately I can't do that to you with my nails..."

"That's alright," Melanis replies, her sultry voice from the stakeout slipping back. "I'm sure you can think of something."

"I'm thinking the HVB, but that seems a _little_ dangerous..."

I open my eyes in time to see Melanis rolling hers. "It doesn't _have_ to involve ripping my clothes off." I raise an eyebrow. "Though that would be nice," she adds under her breath, purring.

"You could always lead by example," I point out, glancing down at her talons. This is so bizarre that I'm doing this with Melanis of all people, and a turian...but it feels right for me. This is what I want, and more importantly, need right now.

"My pleasure," she says, purring again as the talon runs down my chest again, but this time hard enough to rip my shirt, and her other hand holding the cuffs pushes me down to the bed. With a quick tug, Melanis opens my shirt, making me arch my back so she can pull it off while her free hand circles my wrists and forearms, giving a _very _satisfied purr as my shredded shirt falls next to my now bare torso.

I let out a satisfied sigh as her talons run along my bare skin, purrs rumbling through her as I smile. "Turians are great. I'm just saying."

"And this is only the beginning," Melanis whispers, running a talon down my arm instead. The limb twitches a little at the ticklish feeling, but I control it.

"That's intriguing. What's the rest?"

"Ah ah ah," she says, wagging a talon in front of my face. "I don't think it's a healthy relationship if I have to do all the work." Her mandibles widen in happiness at turning my own words against me, and I can't help a grin and a chuckle too.

"I should've seen that coming."

"Yes you should have. Come on, lover boy, it's your turn."

I move my hands apart to reach her top...or at least I try to, until metal bites into my wrists. I try again, then Melanis' smirk confirms everything the feeling against my hands tells me. Must've cuffed me while taking my top off and I didn't notice. "God, you are _good," _I sigh, falling back with my eyes closed.

"I know," she says, purring in satisfaction as she runs her talons down my chest again. "Though I'm surprised you didn't see it coming."

"Not half as surprised as I am." I smile playfully, blinking my eyes open again. "So what now, huh?"

"I get to have fun." Melanis leans down, biting hard across my chest, then nips around my collarbone and neck. All I can do is wriggle happily at the ticklish sensation, waiting for her head to move closer to mine before wrapping my legs around her back and pulling her close, so our mouths are almost touching.

"You don't get all of it," I whisper, my lips brushing over her plates.

"But I still get what I want," she grins, then presses her mouth against mine. I kiss back deeply, tasting her metallic, hot breath as her hands slip around to caress the back of my head, clawing gently through my hair as our tongues entwine, foreheads touching as we both lose ourselves in the simple moment.

The kiss eventually ends, as all good things must do, but Melanis is purring and I'm grinning wide. "I think it's about time that happened for once," I say softly. "For the both of us."

Melanis gives me a warm smile, pressing our foreheads together. "Then this is what I want." With that, she pulls back, making sure to keep careful eye contact with me as she teasingly slides her top off, revelling in having me pinned.

After all this time, the movement takes me aback as I look across the smooth, dark brown plating, straining my arms up to try and see what it feels like against my fingers. After all this time, the training, the arguments, our relationship developing...and now we're here. The thought gives me a rush of adrenaline, and I feel a small pang as Melanis gives me one more grin, lowering her plates down onto my chest skin.

"You're all mine, Ian Shaw," Melanis purrs, leaning down to me, and for a moment my breath hitches. That sounds like something Ulron would've said.

Then I feel Melanis purr again, nuzzling her head against mine, and I realise it doesn't matter. Not with her.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I say, giving a broad smile, before Melanis' mouth presses against mine and we lie back, her talon knocking off the light switch before turning its attention to me.

**A/N: I know it's bugging some people, so I may as well make the public announcement that MtM3 is very close to finished. Maybe three or four more chapters, I think?**

**So, goodbye to Erash. Though I'm sure it's not the last we'll see of him. Assuming you all want to see more of him, haha.**

**As always, thanks for reading, and thank you so much for the amazing 2000 reviews and 400 favs. I'm glad the story somehow entertains you enough to do all that. :)**


	63. Ian vs The Shadow

Chapter 63

The Fray: Fall Away

_Dark. It's really, really dark. Freezing cold too, as I whirl around in the inky blackness, trying to get my bearings. Where am I?_

_"Good pets always come back for more."_

_Oh God, it's Ulron. He's here in the room with me. I swivel around, trying to get a lock on the voice, but it's echoing all around and it's a hopeless task trying to pin it down. I'm horribly exposed here. Every time I turn around to look one way, he could be sneaking up on me, waiting in the darkness until I'm not looking..._

_I make a quick turn, trying to catch him, but the room gets filled with his laughter instead. "They can never get enough." It comes out like a rough whisper in my left ear, making me yelp and lash out at the sound, but I only hit air. Fury over-riding my fear, I run after the direction the whisper came from, determined to find Ulron._

_At least until I crash into a waist-high work bench, making me stagger back as I look down at its red and white surface, surgical tools laid out all over it, along with freezer boxes and an ID. Resting one hand on the bench, I pick it up, immediately recognising the face and name. Dr. Saleon. Shit, this is his surgical table! I recoil instantly, pulling my hand away, and realising it comes off sticky and red as my handprint remains on the table. Blood. Victims' blood._

_I step back from the table in horror, then turn and run, back into the dark recesses of wherever this is. "Where the fuck are you?" I shout. Or at least, I try to shout. My voice only comes out as a hoarse, pathetic whisper, lost in the depths surrounding me. _

_"I'm with you wherever you go," Ulron rumbles from all around me. I swivel again, trying to cover all angles, but to no avail. "You'll never be free of me, Ian Shaw. No matter what you're told."_

_"You're dead," I gasp, still barely able to get any strength into my voice. There has to be a way out. I'm not letting him trap me again. "I was free when Shiara killed you."_

_"Are you free?" he asks, and this time I see him emerge from the shadows with a broad, confident grin, before the dark veils him a second after. I instinctively back away from that spot, and it takes all my self-control not to panic and run at the confirmation he's close. "Does this look like freedom?"_

_"It's not real," I croak, trying to convince myself as much as him. In the distance, something's scraping along the ground. Something which sounds like chains, and a varren growling to go with it. _

_"Does it have to be?" The reverberation illusion is back now. "It doesn't matter if you're a captive in your own mind; you're still a captive."_

_"I control it, not you," I hiss defiantly, searching the darkness for anything...and I see a salarian figure in the distance, his back turned to me. A salarian with very familiar armour. "Mierin?" I walk over to the unmoving figure, cautiously touching him on the shoulder._

_The man I see when he turns doesn't match what I remember. It's still Mierin, I can see that. But I can only make out the small fragments of the face I remember, underneath the weeping blisters and burns covering his face, making me gag and turn away as soon as he looks at me. "If you're in control, why did this happen?" he asks accusingly, reaching out and turning my head towards his. _

_"Control doesn't mean I can save everyone," I pant, trying to pull away, but the salarian's grip is like a vice as a new voice sounds out behind me._

_"But it should have let you do more than you have," Evan says behind me. Mierin lets me go, and I get a good look at the Blue Suns detective, bullet hole still drilled straight through his forehead. "You couldn't find a way to talk me out of shooting you."_

_"That's not my fault," I say desperately, shaking my head. _

_"I was." Ash steps from the shadows now, the puncture marks of Saren's talons still fresh in her armour, her mouth pulled back in a smirk. "You could have saved me."_

_"And me." I don't even have to look to recognise who's talking, but I do it anyway, regretting it immediately. It's Rebecca. Her twisted necromorph form, but it's her. _

_"You're not real. None of you are." My voice wavers as I flit between each accusing set of eyes. Mierin takes a step towards me, but I shove him away, staggering back. "Get away from me!" I turn around to run again...and slam straight into Ulron's chest. The krogan looks down at me, and I can almost feel his hand about to close around my neck...then he walks straight past, grunting derisively as he knocks me to the side._

_"We're not the ones hunting you down," he says, walking past. "You keep coming back to me, Shaw. The only thing keeping us alive is you." He prods me in the back of the head as he goes, but the force is enough to make me fall onto my hands and knees, limbs like jelly. _

_"I want you to die," I gasp, looking up at him. _

_"Oh, but you and I, I think we're inseparable," Ulron chuckles. "You're still mine, still the wailing, broken human, deep inside here where no-one else looks. And if the others can't see it, don't worry." He walks up to me again, sneering. "I can. I'll know. And you won't ever let it, or me, go."_

_I don't have a reply as Ulron and the others form an ever tightening circle...but then I get the feeling like something's tugging at my head, making me look to one side, and in the darkness a tiny pinprick of light appears. I get up and bolt towards it, but Ulron's laughing behind me as I run, echoing behind me as my vision starts to clear._

_"You'll be back, Ian. And she's not always going to be around to protect you..." _

I snap awake with a sharp gasp, frantically trying to gather my surroundings...and Melanis stares down at me, her arms are wrapped tight around my body, her forehead pressed against mine as she gives a comforting purr. She knows what happened. I warned her about the possibility of nightmares before we went to sleep, and...well, here we are. "It's ok, Ian. He's gone. You're safe."

My rapid breaths become more controlled as I adjust to reality, and I nuzzle my head against hers, her warmth and smell comforting. It's not real. He's dead. They're all dead. I'm fine. "Thanks," I smile, running a hand down one of her talons as I remember the safe feeling that carried me out of the dream. "I think I felt you in there."

Melanis smiles back, running a hand through my hair and scratching my scalp. "I'm glad I was able to help." She pauses as her smiles grows wider, baring the teeth I became _very _well acquainted with recently. "Consider it my thanks for your help last night."

"No thanks necessary," I reply, shaking Ulron from my mind as I glance around for wherever the handcuffs ended up. I know they got taken off about halfway through the night, but for the life of me, I can't remember where we threw them... "I wasn't really in much of a position not to help you, was I?"

"At least you were active," Melanis replies casually. "It wouldn't have been as much fun otherwise."

Ignoring the search for cuffs, I run my fingers down her still bare torso, tracing over the gaps between plates. "So you had fun? Was I docile enough for you to enjoy yourself for once, as you put it?"

She purrs lightly at my fingers, stroking my hair again. "Just the right mix."

"Glad to hear it," I say, then look up at her as I feel limbs starting to ache as they wake up. Oh yeah... "A warning about stamina would have been nice, by the way," I add. "Not a complaint, like, seriously, I'm not complaining at _all_, but it'd have been good to know before."

"I thought it'd be a pleasant surprise for you. And you handled it fine..." Melanis' tone is innocent as she gives me a teasing smile. "...for a human."

"I'll take that to mean I was better than the other humans," I reply, trying to sound callous when really, her approval means a hell of a lot to me. Hell, that's probably the first time Melanis has ever said I've 'handled something fine'. So I lean up and kiss her, grinning at the feeling of her mandibles fluttering against my cheeks as she returns it.

"You were wonderful," Melanis says softly, as the kiss breaks off. "Though where did you learn to do that thing with your pinky finger?"

I blush at that, looking away shyly. There's no easy way to detail the educational purposes of the Fornax subscription I was given, so... "Honestly, I just made it up as I went along. And I could ask the same of you." I rub the middle talon on her right hand with a grin.

"Trial and error," she grins. "Probably good you weren't part of that."

I grin back, unable to help the expression slipping onto my face. I'd never considered some of the uses for a talon until last night, but now I'm pretty sure I'm well acquainted with just about every single one of them. "Probably. Getting the practiced version was a nice surprise."

"And for supposedly making it up as you went, so was yours," she chuckles. "Maybe there _are _some benefits of those extra digits."

"I'm not gonna lie," I say, settling down next to Melanis again and wrapping my arms around her waist, "after that, I still think turians have more advantages in the bedroom."

"Humans do have a certain charm, though," she replies thoughtfully. "I'm always amazed that they can be soft in some places and hard in others."

"I never realised turians have soft bits too," I chuckle, sliding my hand lower across her stomach. "Though I guess they're hidden pretty well."

Melanis puts a talon to my lips, playfully shushing me. "Those are supposed to be secret."

"Hey, I'm more than happy to keep that between the two of us," I grin, gently rubbing her left spur with my ankle.

Melanis purrs, letting it rumble through her body and me as she smiles. "For once you actually learned something I taught you quickly."

"You must be so proud."

She quickly leans in, her teeth closing around my earlobe and giving a small nibble. "You have no idea," she whispers.

I tilt my head up to kiss her, and we hold each other close, alternating between nips and gentle kisses for a few minutes. After the craziness of the Maelstroms, Erash leaving and psychological recovery, being able to relax is something I feel perfectly happy indulging in.

"What're your shower plans this morning?" I ask, as Melanis pulls back so our foreheads are touching again.

Melanis' smile suggests pretty clearly she knows what I'm getting at. "Oh, I don't know. I thought I'd figure something out. Any ideas?"

I glance over at the clock in the room. 8:30. "Well, no-one's going to be in at this time," I say coyly. "And I think I've had enough time to get over my 'human concerns' about showering together, as you put it."

Melanis chuckles, scraping her talons down my arm. "Considering the fun we had last night, I'd be worried if you still had those concerns."

"We weren't having fun in a communal area," I laugh.

"There are stalls in there. It's not like people could just walk in and see us."

"Pretty sure they would have heard us."

Melanis gives a coy smile. "I can be quiet."

"Right," I say teasingly. "I'll believe that when I hear it. Or don't, come to think of it."

"It doesn't really matter anyway," she points out. "You even said no one's going to be in there."

"Mmm, valid point." I kiss her again, then look over at the clock and door, grinning. "Course, that isn't going to last forever."

Melanis nips my shoulder, then rises out of bed with her bare body turned to me before she turns around with a smile. "Then we don't have any time to waste."

"No, we don't," I chuckle, letting Melanis grab my hand and quickly run us out towards the shower room before anyone can notice us.

###########

"Hey, Shaw, you seen this?" Butler shouts over to me as I walk into the living room, half a slice of toast in his mouth. He's sat in the living room with Sidonis and Garrus, watching one of Omega's news channels. Usually by this time in the morning it's a bit busier, but with Erash's departure, I'm not too surprised to see Laet and Monteague aren't here. Grundan and Weaver have never really been ones for social breakfasts anyway, and Vortash and Sensat are pretty inconsistent about what time they wake up. Usually Erash would be around at this time, but I don't think mentioning that is a good idea. Honestly, for Laet's sake, I don't think anyone's going to be talking about Erash for a long while.

"Probably not, seeing as I just walked in the room," I reply, making an agonised look over at the kitchen before deciding food can wait until Butler's told me what I'm supposed to be looking at. "Is it worth delaying breakfast for?"

"Just watch the report," Sidonis says, so I sit down next to Garrus and turn my attention to the screen. There's a rolling news feed at the bottom, but at the moment they're playing a flyover of an all too familiar auction house.

"…_the scene of what's officially being reported as a bomb collar malfunction, but heavily rumoured to have Archangel's involvement. Only a few hours afterwards, news of a massacre at a Blood Pack base near the Tercvara district was revealed to the public, as the Blood Pack issued a statement promising justice against Archangel and the killers responsible. Other mercenary groups were quick to condemn the actions of Archangel, reiterating calls to the public to bring any evidence to light which could lead to the capture of Archangel and any of his affiliates."_

"I didn't realise the Blood Pack knew how to write statements," Garrus mutters. "They must be getting smarter."

"_These tactics represent a new shift in tactics for Archangel, and today we ask, is he growing bolder, and what does that mean for Omega?" _The camera pans back to the studio, where an asari who seems to have been picked for looks over newsreading ability is sat. A lot of news broadcasts are merc sponsored, so the anti-Archangel bias is pretty strong, at least on television. _"Reports indicate sightings of this figure near recent scenes of Archangel's work." _In the top right corner of the screen, a portrait photo of me in armour comes up, helmet tilted slightly towards the camera. Pixellated photo suggests someone used the zoom function from a distance to catch that.

"That's it?" I ask, glancing at Butler. "You just wanted to show I was on the news and that people can't remember my alias?"

"_Yesterday's attacks have left people wondering; is it the work of an Archangel, or an Archdemon?" _the asari asks, the question clearly a rhetorical one, and I turn my attention back to report as the picture of me slowly zooms in until it's filling the screen. The caption underneath simply reads 'Archdemon?', with contact details underneath to send in opinions to the news network. Ah. I guess that's probably what I was supposed to see.

"They've been looping it for the last half hour," Butler explains, looking over at me as Sidonis turns the sound on the report down. "Mercs cannae get enough of their own propaganda."

"Archdemon," I say to myself quietly, thinking it over. Well, no-one can remember Deadpool, for a start. With the blood dragon on my armour, I can't exactly deny it's relevant there too. Plus it's what Omega itself has come up with, so that makes the idea of adopting it even more fitting, as well as the fact it sounds pretty damn fearsome. "You know, I think I could find myself liking that."

"Every news station is fucking obsessed with it, so it's not really like you have a choice at this point," Sidonis chuckles. "Good thing you like it." He's about to look away, then suddenly squints at me, or rather my neck and shoulders. "What happened to you?"

Oh God. I was hoping that the shower would make the scratches and bites less noticeable, but considering Melanis gave me a few fresh ones while we were in there, I shouldn't be surprised they got noticed. Especially by a turian. "I, uh…scratched myself," I say.

"Did you bite yourself too?" Sidonis asks, laughing as he gets out of his seat to come over to me. "Garrus, look at this."

"Garrus, please don't," I say, as the other turian walks to me too. Sidonis puts his hand on my head and tilts it forward, letting them both look at my neck for a few seconds before they burst out laughing. Garrus pulls back my t-shirt on one shoulder, and they start laughing even harder when they see the bite marks there too. Why does turian affection have to be so visible on humans?

Butler's looking between me and the two laughing turians and trying to laugh too, even though his expression shows how clueless he is. "Alright, I dinnae know what's going on," he finally admits. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Ian just seems to have had a busy night, that's all," Sidonis manages to gasp between laughs. "I was never quite sure what was happening between you and Melanis, but I guess this confirms it."

"Can you keep your bloody voice down?" I hiss, glancing over my shoulder to see if Melanis is back from getting changed yet, but fortunately the room is empty except for the four of us. "We were supposed to be keeping it secret, so if she knows you know she'll kill me!"

"Well, it looks like you can handle a few bites and scratches," Garrus chuckles. "I'm always surprised how good humans are at that."

"Spirits," Sidonis mutters, tracing a gloved talon over one of the deeper marks on the back of my neck. "I used to give my girlfriend bites like that. I think it's the only reason she stayed with me."

"Makes sense," I say sarcastically. "It can't have been for your winning personality – wait, didn't she bite you back?"

Sidonis and Garrus exchange looks, then start laughing again, flanging tones filling the room as I sit awkwardly between them. "Well, yeah, she did," Sidonis finally replies. "But not like that. That's usually the kind of bite the male gives."

"And that's why this is so funny to you," I sigh, the penny finally dropping as the two turians descend back into hysterics. "We're just challenging the inherent sexism so obvious in turian society," I say, trying to counter as the laughter dies down.

"Actually, we're historically a society which has prided itself on equality," Sidonis points out, apparently on rare form this morning. "Which isn't something I can say for humans."

"At least you're no' on the bottom, right?" Butler asks. I sigh again, trying to think of a better way to say 'not quite', by which time all three of them are laughing at me.

"I don't see how that's funny," I shrug, trying not to let my embarrassment show as they continue. "I'm not conforming to some masculinity cliché, so what?"

"Relax, Ian," Garrus chuckles. "There's no social stigma in turian society against role reversal in relationships. It's just unusual."

"And really funny," Sidonis adds, making them both laugh again.

"Well, as long as the Hierarchy aren't going to press charges, I can put up with a bit of ridicule," I reply, as my belly rumbles. "Can I get food now?" I swat away Garrus and Sidonis' hands, standing up and looking towards the kitchen.

"If you can be briefed while eating, then sure," Garrus nods, heading over to the kitchen with me as Sidonis and Butler get back to watching news reports.

"We're not done?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder as I grab a plate out of a cupboard. "I figured stopping the Maelstroms earned us a break."

"Not quite," he replies, leaning against the kitchen worktop as I grab a couple of slices of bread and pop them in the toaster. "It stands to reason that since Whiteguard ended up giving Aria the Maelstroms rather than killing her with them, Umbra are going to pull their funding. And you said that was the main thing keeping them afloat."

"Whiteguard only got so big once Umbra started footing their bills," I say, reaching into the fridge for some spread. "I mean, I saw the balance sheet, and it doesn't take a financial expert to see Umbra money was covering the vast majority of wages, overheads, weapons, property rents, the whole deal. Once the mercs realise they're not getting paid, I guess it'll take all of five seconds before they walk out somewhere else." I pull my head out of the fridge, turning around and clasping my hands together as I face Garrus. "So what's the problem?"

"There's a couple of problems, actually," the turian explains. "First off, Aria wants Shurta's head. There's been bounty notices all over the channels for him."

"How much is she paying?"

"Two hundred thousand credits alive, fifty thousand dead."

I let out a low whistle. "Not too shabby. Nothing on us, but still, that's enough incentive for people to keeping an eye out."

"Given how bad the situation for Whiteguard is, I wouldn't be surprised if his own people try to turn him in," Garrus says. "Shurta's probably thinking the same thing. He won't trust anyone."

"But he's got no route off Omega," I point out. "I mean, he's bankrupt and a walking pile of credits. He can't exactly afford to outpay Aria for a lift out of here, so it's just a matter of time until someone finds him. I'd hate to deny people their fun."

"Normally, I'd agree," Garrus nods. "But we know Shurta's had dealings with Umbra. This is the biggest link we've ever really had to them."

"Ah," I reply, chuckling. "We're not going to be able to get much out of him if Aria gets her hands on him first, are we? Even if she's looking for Umbra too."

"I'd rather interrogate Shurta myself," Garrus replies darkly. "Besides, if we leave it to other people to find him, they might end up taking him to her in a bodybag. Then we're guaranteed nothing."

He's right. Leaving things in the hands of the fine bounty hunters of Omega is an awful idea. "So where do we start looking?" I ask. "I guess his apartment is the only real safe place for him. I mean, we didn't find it until Shiara decided to tell me where it was, so that gives us a headstart."

"That was going to be my suggestion too," Garrus says. "He's not got anyone or anywhere else to run to. Seeing as the two of us work well in interrogations together, and we're not nursing hangovers -"

"Hey, count me in," I say, turning as the toaster pops and scooping up some spread for it. "Taking down Umbra is something I want to be a part of. You need me to eat this on the go?"

"I think we can afford for you to eat, so long as you don't take too long," Garrus replies, cracking a smile. "Don't want you getting crumbs in your underlayer. The scratches must be uncomfortable enough." I flick him off, making him chuckle as he walks off. "We'll take the skycar rather than the shuttle. I'll see you there in ten minutes."

"Smartass," I mutter to myself, cramming one slice of toast into my mouth as I head toward the lockers. I get to shut down Whiteguard and start chasing down Umbra, all in one morning.

I get the feeling this is going to be a big, big day.

#########

Rhi'hesh Shurta practically staggers through his apartment door, looking behind him and out the window warily, then breathes a small sigh of relief as he realises he's in the clear. The guy's obviously had a hell of a day so far. I guess having your entire world crumble around you is a good way to send someone crashing back to reality, but Shurta doesn't even realise how far he has left to fall.

"Hi," I say, Garrus and I sat in chairs facing his door, pistols pointed casually in his direction. Shurta has the expression of a rabbit caught in the headlights, all four eyes open and wide as he looks at us, dwelling over the fight or flight decision. Must be a new experience, since usually he has people to do the former for him, and a few more to organise the latter when necessary. "Take a seat, mate," I add calmly, gesturing to the sofa in front of us. "We've just got a few questions we need to ask."

Shurta slowly steps forward, not keeping his eyes off us as he slides down onto the sofa. There's no point in him going for a gun. We'd tear him down before he even had it out, and even if he managed to get shots off, we're in full armour. "How did you find me here?" Shurta asks, his voice dry and raspy. He must have ran back here whenever he heard about the bounty on his head. "My personnel file has the best encryption on the market."

"And we have the best tech people," Garrus says, taking over. We agreed on our approach on the way over. Calm and professional. Shurta's a mouse in a station full to the brim with cats, so he's going to jump on any kind of mercy like a starving man offered a steak dinner. "If you answer our questions, then we leave and you can go back to hiding underneath your bed."

The four eyes flit between us, fear still obvious, but the slight mention of safety already has Shurta's interest. "Archangel and Archdemon turn up at my house, and I'm supposed to expect you not to kill me?" Well, good to see 'Archdemon' is catching on fast, at least.

"Expect what you want," I shrug. "But we've got bigger fish to fry than some has-been merc leader."

"It's a fish you might have a grudge against, come to think of it," Garrus adds. "So if you give us information, you get to stay alive, and there's even revenge thrown in for free. Seems like a generous offer for a man who's a bounty hunter's next pay packet."

Shurta leans back in his chair, whatever pride left in him clearly making him want to appear cool and collected in this situation. "You want information on Umbra."

"You catch on quick," I nod. "I like you already."

"Fuckers were paying me on a day to day basis," Shurta mutters, looking more than happy to launch into a rant about his previous employer. "Enough to cover the manpower, weapons and overheads. Made it clear that if I crossed them, then the money would go and I'd be left with a load of pissed off mercs and no credits to pay them with. Should never have got involved with them in the first fucking place."

"Now, there's a good question," Garrus says thoughtfully. "Why _did _you get involved with them?"

Shurta gives him a glare, shaking his head. I suspect he'd rather not be answering these questions, but having two guns pointed at you by the most well known vigilantes on Omega is a hell of an incentive. "I had the company up and running in a month of getting here, but the big three kept taking any business I had a chance at," the batarian explains. "Then I got a message from Umbra. One job. In return, they'd give me the money I needed to make a name for myself and Whiteguard on this rock."

"And you just went for it?" I ask.

"No," Shurta grunts, looking at me like I'm stupid. "Then they sent Whiteguard ten million credits as a sweetener. That caught my attention."

"I'll bet," Garrus mutters dryly.

"They told me to think of it like a loan," the batarian says. "They'd pay to grow Whiteguard, and in return I'd get four Maelstroms, and plant them in Afterlife. By that point, we'd be big enough to look after ourselves, and start paying back the debt. Everyone would've won."

"They didn't explain why they wanted Afterlife gone?" I ask, probing onto the particular point.

"Must've wanted to kill Aria fucking T'Loak," Shurta replies, spitting on the ground after he says her name. "Can't blame them."

For some reason, that makes something click in my head. Umbra have tried to kill Aria twice recently; first with Sensat, then with the Maelstroms. This is them showing their hand. I deactivate the external speakers on my helmet, switching to the radio frequency. "Umbra seem to have it in for Aria, don't they?" I ask him rhetorically. "Sensat got triggered to kill her, which started this whole thing, and then they hire Whiteguard to do it for them."

"_Who would benefit from her dead, though?_" Garrus replies a few seconds later, presumably turning off his own speakers as well. "_One of the merc groups? It could give them an opening to take control."_

"That doesn't add up," I say, shaking my head. "None of the big three are powerful enough to do that, and they know it."

"_And Umbra haven't exactly shown any loyalty to one particular group in the past," _Garrus sighs. _"Still, a motive is a good place to start. They've never really given us one before."_

"Did you ever meet anyone from Umbra face to face?" I ask, turning my speakers back on to address Shurta. "Anything beyond mailing each other?"

"No," the batarian replies, shaking his head. "They always mailed."

"_Nice try," _Garrus chuckles in my ear. _"But when are we ever that lucky?"_

"Worth a try," I mutter back to him, keeping my replies to the radio channel and using the speaker when I want to talk to Shurta. "Did they have any plans for Whiteguard once Aria was dead?"

"We'd be free to grab power in the chaos, that was the plan," Shurta says. "We had a large merc force and good weapons. Without T'Loak getting in the way, I could have smashed through the Talons at least. Taking their position would've given enough power and income to start paying back the loan."

"Sure," Garrus interjects. "Or Umbra could have stopped paying you the day after the Maelstroms went off and killed your entire operation."

"Why the fuck would they have done that?" Shurta asks angrily. "They'd sunk millions of credits into us."

"That's a good question," I point out to Garrus via the radio channel. "It doesn't make business sense, does it?"

"_Depends on who's running the business," _Garrus replies, and there's a hint of a growl in his voice as he says that. _"He said Whiteguard would have been able to take down the Talons if Aria was gone. If he could do it, how hard do you think the Suns would find that? Or Eclipse? Or the Blood Pack?"_

I…fucking hell, that's a _very _good point. "They'd have no problem at all," I admit. It's one of Omega's worst kept secrets that Aria isn't a fan of merc groups trying to wipe each other out. Expansionist policies mean a company might grow big enough to challenge her, and Aria obviously doesn't want that to happen. Hence 'intervening' when necessary. "But they'd be consolidating their power. The Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack are all competing. Relative to each other, that still doesn't make one more powerful than another."

"_No-one else has any kind of gains to make from Aria dead," _Garrus insists. _"There has to be a link here." _He turns back to Shurta, who seems intimidated by the silence in the room as Garrus and I discuss theories. "If this job was so important, why didn't Umbra ask the Suns to do it? Or Eclipse? Or the Blood Pack?"

"They were offering me something I never thought would be possible," Shurta replies with an angry shrug. "I was going to point them to my competition, why would I question it?"

"Alright, that's flimsy," I say to Garrus. "The big groups might respect Aria, but they wouldn't shy away from blowing her up if the price was right." As I think it over, suddenly, things feel like they're starting to fall into place. "If it got out one of the major merc groups killed Aria…that'd be bad for their reputation. People like her."

"_So make Whiteguard the scapegoat," _Garrus continues. _"No wonder Umbra paid them on a daily basis. As soon as the Maelstroms went off, they would have cut the funding, and sold Whiteguard out to the people, the media, everyone."_

"And the merc groups would step in during the chaos to try and bring order, as a 'moral obligation'," I say. "They all look good. The small merc companies get wiped out, and then we fall into a power struggle between the big three." God, we're so fucking close to something here, but it doesn't quite add up. "But that doesn't get them anywhere. Plus Jaroth, Tarak and Garm would never work together." At least not until they try to take us down…but this is too sophisticated for them, if what Garrus is saying turns out to be correct.

"_Maybe it doesn't get them power," _Garrus replies, and I can hear his voice speeding up as it tends to when he thinks he's onto something. _"But their market share increases. If the station goes into chaos and people are living on battlegrounds, they'll want protection. Guns. Slaves to rebuild when the dust settles. Services the mercenary companies provide. This isn't about power."_

"It's about money," I mutter. "Conflict breeds profits." The email we recovered that was sent to Mirki'it, what did it say…

_Mirki'it_

_The monitoring of recent activity on Omega's red sand market has shown your output levels dropping in the wake of guerrilla attacks on spaceports around the area, and saboteurs targeting your shipments. While we appreciate circumstances may have become difficult for you, we've also seen that your payments to the security firms and mercenary groups are being scaled back as well…It would be unfortunate to have to withdraw our support from you, but it is the position we face. In this time of market expansion, the weak will only be left behind…We expect to hear of your contracts with mercenary groups being upheld shortly._

_Payments to the security firms and mercenary groups._

_This time of market expansion._

_We expect to hear of your contracts with mercenary groups being upheld._

Even as early as Mirki'it, the point was there. Keep your contracts with all the mercenary groups, not just one. Whatever they were investing in him, the payments to each company was obviously making up for it. At least until he stopped paying.

"We found Sensat underneath an Eclipse facility," I say, practically talking to myself as the dots start to connect. There's no way that place could have been built without someone in Eclipse knowing about it. And Sensat was a tool for Umbra.

_"You're fighting against a power that will soon rule this place," Ripard says. "Like insects, biting away. Annoyances to be crushed, nothing more."_

If the merc leaders were in charge of Umbra, why would they need to include someone like Ripard? Everything we know suggests Umbra is a small network. It's named after 'shadow' in Latin. If Garrus is right, and Umbra is the mercenary groups working together…I have a strong, strong suspicion the leaders don't know about it. This is being orchestrated behind the scenes.

"The leaders didn't have to know about this," I say, as I make the one last link. "All it takes is people with access to each company's money to get in contact and realise how profitable Aria's death would be. She goes down, the money rolls in, and no-one's any the wiser."

"You said Umbra were paying you on a day to day basis," Garrus snaps, turning to Shurta. "How much?"

"We covered some of our own costs too," Shurta explains, sounding extremely nervous now. The long silences must be nerve-wracking for him. "So…about twenty thousand credits a day."

"That's small change for merc groups," I note to Garrus, before activating my own helmet speakers. "People wouldn't even notice that money was missing."

"_And the ten million sweetener he mentioned?" _Garrus asks.

Hmm…ten million is a lot. A hell of a lot. But galaxy wide organisations like the Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack can afford it. "Mix and match from different departments, call it a research project," I suggest. "Look, the people involved in this have direct control over mercenary funds. No other way this is possible. No-one's going to ask them questions, because there's no-one high up enough to question the decision. And how often do you think Garm looks at the accounting books?"

"_Point taken," _Garrus mutters.

"How was the money transferred?" I ask Shurta. "Any specific account?"

Shurta looks down for a second, wracking his brains frantically, then back up at us. "It got transferred from account to account," he says. "But they used three different accounts. Alternated from day to day so the money couldn't be traced."

Garrus and I exchange looks at that. Three different accounts is practically all the confirmation we need. "That's not how money tracing works," Garrus says out loud.

Umbra's not an independent organisation. It's a network inside the merc groups, using their money and proxies to create the best environment for profits possible. Chaos.

It's a conspiracy led by a team of accountants.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about Umbra?" Garrus asks, though I can see him itching to get to his feet, and I feel the same way. We can get Grundan to run a check on accounting staff in each merc group and see what we find.

"No, that's all I know," Shurta says, glancing at our guns. "I swear, I haven't held anything back."

"Alright," I say, getting to my feet and pointing my gun at him. "Cheers. You've been very helpful." Garrus does the same next to me, as Shurta stares at us in shock.

"Wait wait wait, what are you doing?" he shouts, flinching away from the barrels.

"Making someone's day," Garrus mutters, then the two of us pull the trigger at the same time, near simultaneous headshots making Shurta slump back against the blood-spattered couch. This was something the two of us agreed on the way over as well. We don't need Shurta crying to his ex-master that we came asking about them, plus it's only a matter of time before a bounty hunter or hunters get their hands on him. If they brought him in alive, shooting him now is mercy in comparison.

"I can't fucking believe this," I say, as the two of us walk out the apartment door and up towards the rooftop garage where we parked.

"Which part?" Garrus asks. "The fact we only worked this out now, or the fact Aria's almost been assassinated twice by the finance department of the three biggest mercenary groups."

"Both," I mutter, climbing into the passenger seat while Garrus gets in his side and guns the engine. "Assuming we're right."

"Only one way to find out," the turian says, as we pull away into the lanes of traffic streaming above Shurta's apartment block. "Call Grundan. I think there's a few people we owe a visit to."

**A/N: Just so you're aware, some small retcons were made to Chapter 3 and 9. Nothing major at all, just changed the wording of some stuff around so the ending makes sense.**


	64. Ian vs The Three

Chapter 64

The Kooks: Naive

"_Shaw. What do you want?" _

"Morning, Grundan," I say, trying not to chuckle at how much gruffer his voice is than normal while Garrus cruises through traffic lanes. For once, there's no need for crazy aerial manoeuvres to get back to base, since we don't have a target yet. No mission, no rush. That's novel. "You're sounding spry today."

"_I thought we agreed last night getting rid of the Maelstroms earned us a day off," _he grunts. "_So why aren't you in the base, why are you calling me, and, again, what do you want?"_

The funny thing is, this constitutes to a nice greeting. A few weeks back, at best I would've got 'fuck off' and the dial tone. Whatever mutual respect Grundan and I managed to build isn't a friendship, I don't think he'll ever let that happen, but at least it means he'll take my calls even when he's hungover and not hurl abuse at me. "First answer; Garrus and I went to find the Whiteguard leader. Second; he gave us a lead to follow. Third; I need the names of whoever's in charge of the finances of the Blue Suns, Blood Pack and Eclipse respectively."

There's a muffled sigh on the other end of the line, and then what sounds like sheets being thrown back before Grundan's voice comes back. "_Hold on."_

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" I ask innocently, hearing Sidonis shout 'good morning' in the background.

"_No."_

"Butler reckons Jaffa Cakes are a good hangover cure, you know."

"_What the fuck are Jaffa Cakes?"_

"Really hard to find," I say, frowning. There's one speciality human store for Earth food Butler uses to get them, even if they set him back a fair few credits for a box. "They're like discs with chocolate on top, and an orange layer inside the chocolate."

"_I'll ask him about it," _the batarian mutters, as I hear the sound of a terminal booting up. There's a pause for a few seconds before he comes back. _"They really help with hangovers?"_

"No idea," I reply, shrugging even though there's no way Grundan could tell I'm doing that. "There's not any scientific evidence for it. I think Butler just likes an excuse to binge."

"_Oh," _he says, sounding legitimately disappointed.

"If it's that bad, I'm sure Monteague's got a few aspirin in the medbay," I suggest. "Then just wear some sunglasses. Actually, do batarians even have sunglasses? With the whole four eye thing?"

"_We do," _he replies bluntly, as I try not to laugh at the image. All I can imagine is Grundan with a pair of mirrored aviators for each pair of eyes. _"That miracle of engineering wasn't lost on us."_

"Glad to hear it," I say, just about holding back laughter. "You started the search yet?"

"_The files are decrypting," _he mutters, sighing again. This is probably the last thing he wanted to be doing this morning, staring at a bright terminal screen. Poor guy. _"There's no serious protection on them."_

Well, that's not too surprising. "I guess they don't really expect people to target the finance department staff."

"_Probably not," _Grundan agrees. We sit in silence for about a minute, then I hear the terminal give a 'download complete' trill. _"I've got them. You don't want me to read them out to you, do you?"_

"I think we'll be able to wait, thanks," I laugh. "Cheers, Grundan. Go and see Butler and Monteague."

"_Yeah," _he grunts, then hangs up. Shaking my head, I glance over at Garrus to signify the call's done.

"I'm impressed," he chuckles, raising his brow ridges. "That sounded like you actually managed to carry a full conversation with Grundan."

"We've got the wedding booked for November," I reply, getting the turian to laugh. "He's pulled the files, though. The encryption was really easy."

"Can't expect the merc groups to be protecting Umbra," Garrus points out. "If you're right, their own companies don't realise how big they are."

"If I'm right?" I say, putting a hand on my heart. "Ouch, man. Ouch."

"Of course, because your instincts are always impeccable," Garrus replies, shaking his head. "Like when you thought that salarian back on the Citadel was a nefarious weapons smuggler, we get a warrant and search his premises, and he was selling toy guns for kids."

"I thought it was a front," I protest. "You can't be too careful."

"Tell that to the turian kid you made cry breaking open his model Avenger."

"Oh, sorry, if I see a child with a gun, I'll be sure to leave it well alone," I reply sarcastically. "It was a good replica and he was looking down the barrel, I panicked. Besides, I gave him the credits to buy at least three more. He went from hating me to making me his best friend after that."

"And they say money can't buy a child's love," Garrus mutters, making us both laugh, to the extent I don't notice I've got an incoming call until it's practically rang out. Grizz. I sigh as the laughter dies down, answering the call even as the temptation to reject any kind of correspondence from Aria flashes across my mind.

"What?" I ask bluntly. Taking the call doesn't mean I've got the courtesy to try and be polite to her and her goons.

"_Aria wants to see you in Afterlife, soon as possible," _the turian growls. At least Grizz is used to getting moody replies from me. "_It's important."_

"I'm doing something important right now too," I reply. "So tell her to wait."

"_I don't tell Aria to wait," _Grizz says. _"Get here now."_

"Look, I know Aria handles your leash," I shoot back impatiently, "but unlike you, she doesn't own me. So she can wait a little bit for me to arrive."

"_It's about Umbra and Shirion," _he replies, but there's an enormous growl behind it. I don't think he appreciated the 'leash' comment. "_I don't know what the fuck that means, but Aria said it'd get you interested." _

I slump back in my seat, closing my eyes and trying not to get too frustrated. I don't want to see Aria or anything to do with her right now, and Shurta has already given us a good lead on Umbra. Any more information could be useful, though, and if Aria has it…I need to at least check it out. Shit. "Fine, give me a few minutes," I mutter, hanging up before Grizz gives me some pithy remark. "Drop me off at Afterlife," I say to Garrus, looking over to him. "Aria reckons she has something on Umbra."

"We already have three leads," Garrus replies, sounding confused. "You don't need to see her."

"You're going to have to brief the squad on everything we found out off Shurta, and no doubt they're gonna have questions, so there's no point in me being there for that," I point out. "I may as well do something useful during that. Even if it involves her."

"And what if she tries to blackmail us again?" Garrus asks sternly. "Aria's given us enough trouble."

"If she's going to blackmail us, then she'll let me know even if I don't turn up to this meeting," I shrug. "We saved her life. Hopefully whatever concept of honour she has stretches far enough for us to call it quits." I glance over at Garrus, who's gripping the steering wheel noticeably tighter in his talons. "We need all the information we can get. I'll be fine."

The turian lets out a long, flanging sigh, then nods. "Alright. I'll drop you off. But we're not making deals with her, we're not negotiating with her. If she wants to give you information for free, fine. If not, leave."

"She blackmailed me too, you know," I remind him. "Trust me, beyond the bare minimum to keep her alive, my interest in giving Aria a hand is non-existent." The asari's been a useful source of leads at times, I'll give her that much, but after what happened…the cost of using her seems a bit too much. As long as we're not actively against each other, we can survive without her. "Relax, Garrus."

"When Aria T'Loak's involved in something, relaxing is a bad idea," he mutters, shaking his head. We don't talk further in the five minutes it takes to reach Afterlife; I'm still mulling over how easy things'll be without her helping out, while Garrus is quietly fuming, presumably about Aria having the gall to call us here after what she did.

In a way, at least now is as good a time as any to fall out with Aria. I know it's been more or less two years since Shepard died. She could be coming back any time, really, so with any luck my time on this hell-hole is coming to an end. I look around at the dark red surroundings as we descend, jagged and broken buildings towering over people who match the same description. After two years on the Citadel, it felt like home. This just feels like a place to escape from.

Course, this means the Sidonis betrayal should be coming up. Calm, nice, funny Sidonis, stabbing us in the back. I glance over at Garrus, but quickly decide not to mention it as he stabs the button on the dashboard to open the passenger door. We've not talked about the message I sent…maybe because it's too hard for Garrus to talk about it, but the sent items box on my omni-tool marks it as received, and he seems to be hanging around a lot closer to Sidonis recently. He knows. And if it looks like he's going to let Sidonis out alone, I'll be able to step in with a quick reminder.

"Garrus, I'm in full armour," I say, reaching over and opening the boot as I check for people next to our parking spot. No-one. "Let me get changed." In his anger, he's obviously forgotten that strolling around in my armour is going to get me killed faster than you can say 'feared vigilante', so we keep a change of clothes for all species in the trunk of the car. In my case, some non-descript brown trousers and fairly-close fitting blue t-shirt.

It only takes a second for me to nip out the car and throw them on the backseat, then quickly remove my armour items as Garrus keeps his eyes to the front, humming tunelessly to himself. "Come to Omega and be a vigilante, they said," I mutter as I try to work the underlayer off in the limited space, pulling on the trousers. "It'll be glamorous, they said…"

"You're meeting the 'queen' of Omega," Garrus replies, though I can hear the sarcastic edge to his voice on the 'queen' part. "That seems glamorous to me. You never met royalty on the Citadel."

"I think Pallin considered himself royalty," I chuckle, making Garrus laugh. "And I'm getting changed in the back of a car so I'm not murdered on sight. I didn't sign up for this shit."

"What did you sign up for?" Garrus asks, his tone teasing as I pull on the t-shirt at last, straightening up in the back seat.

"Kicking criminals' teeth in, I think," I grin, getting back out onto the street and slapping the top of the car. "I can just walk back. Get everyone briefed while I'm gone?"

"Will do," the turian nods, letting me take a few steps back before raising the car off the ground and slowly pulling away into the distance. He's wound up about Umbra, I can tell. Not that I particularly blame him. Seeing as almost every major problem we've had on Omega has been down to them, the idea of turning the tables is extremely appealing.

I walk around to the front of Afterlife, glancing over to the krogan bouncer leaning against a wall and smoking. It's only about eleven in the morning, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised to see there's no queue outside Afterlife. I give an involuntary shudder as his dark red eyes flick up to meet mine, but he drops them again with disinterest, letting me walk straight in. Good. I don't need a confrontation with a krogan.

The usual pounding of music is absent as I walk through the antechamber, the familiar flame lighting deactivated as I brush past a salarian cleaner on the way to the main door. Going through that…the main area is almost deserted. The typical dull red lighting remains, but the big raised stage is empty. There's a couple of people slumped over bars, nursing drinks, their lives presumably as empty as their surroundings. No performers, no pumping bass, nothing. Just a hell of a lot of cleaning staff and the odd asari dancer moving from one area to another.

Grizz and Anto are at their usual stations, at least, as I walk up to the former and give him a sardonic smile. "Here I am, as asked."

"Aria wanted to see you," he mutters. "Not me. Get out of my face."

"Isn't this a bit early for you to be on shift?" I ask, walking up the stairs and looking at him as I move. "Don't you sleep?"

"Yeah, I do," Grizz replies. "But I haven't killed any smartass humans in a few hours, so I'm feeling a bit restless."

"Guess you'll have to hold out a bit longer."

"Or I'll just hope you say something stupid to Aria."

I feel a bit uneasy as I turn away from Grizz. Hopefully that was a joke rather than a genuine expectation on his part. As I walk up the steps towards Aria, though, she turns with a smile, her arms folded. Well, she doesn't look pissed or ready to order my death. Too bad for Grizz.

"I don't think I've ever seen it this quiet," I comment, curiosity taking over from the urge to maintain stony silence as I sit down in my usual space adjacent to Aria. Though honestly, stony silence wouldn't have worked too long. As much as I hate Aria at the moment…something about her still terrifies me. We can verbally spar, shoot a few barbs at each other, but genuinely pissing her off isn't something I want to experience. Especially since I imagine you only get to experience it once.

"People have other things to do than party," Aria explains, taking her seat, smile never leaving her face. "The place has to get cleaned some time. Early morning works best. The deadbeats never complain much." She glances over at the few patrons, look of disdain crossing her face before she turns back to me. "Can I get you anything? Drink?"

I shake my head. "No. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" she asks. "It's on the house. I can make them serve food if you're hungry. Or have a dancer warm you up afterwards if you want-"

"Look, Aria, no offence," I say, trying to keep my voice level as I interject. "But I don't want your hospitality. I came for information. That's all."

Aria smirks, sitting back in her seat a little. "Just an offer. Usually people don't reject a free stripper and drink that emphatically."

Okay, this is too much. "You blackmailed me and my friend less than a week ago," I snap. "You put myself and everyone I know in danger, you used me, almost got me killed _several _times, and got four bombs which, as far as I'm concerned, should've just been destroyed. I already told you; don't insult my intelligence by pretending you give a fuck about me. Drop the buddy act."

For the briefest moment, a scowl flickers across Aria's face, but she brings it under control straight away, even if her smirk is curled down at the edges a little more than usual. "You don't get far in business holding grudges. I used you. But you stopped Whiteguard and a coup in the process. I think we helped each other."

"Stopping the coup benefitted you as much as us, and I didn't hold it over your fucking head as a threat until you gave us something we wanted, I just stopped it," I reply, really having to hold myself back so I don't raise my voice. "Oh, and we would have stopped Whiteguard ourselves, even without your lovely little incentive. You screwed us."

"And Omega is filled with people I've 'screwed'," Aria replies coolly. "They still work with me. It's business. I told you when we first met; you're interesting. I like interesting people. It was nothing against you."

"Well, justice isn't a business," I say angrily. "And trust me, holding grudges gets you pretty far in it. If you want to give us information, feel free, but don't expect us to perform tricks for it, and more importantly, don't expect _me _to perform tricks for it. Interesting or not."

Aria's eyes narrow, staring me down. "Are you saying you're against me?"

"I'm saying we're not with you," I reply, meeting her eyes. "Doesn't mean we're against you either."

We hold the battle of wills for a few seconds more, until Aria finally leans her head back and laughs, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat until she finally settles down, still chuckling as she addresses me again. "Look at you. Independent. I'm so proud. If you don't want to work with me, fine. My door is always open if you ever change your mind and need something."

"Thanks for the offer," I say sarcastically, ignoring her patronising tone. "You're not going to suddenly blackmail us into your service again?"

Aria pauses for a moment, then shakes her head. "No. You more than fulfilled what I asked of you, and I suppose saving my life does earn you one favour. Unless you force me to release it, it stays our little secret. Shaw." I still get chills every time she says it in that smug, condescending way. Not the good kind of chills. "And, as a matter of fact, I do actually give a fuck about you, as you put it. I'm hurt to hear you think otherwise."

"You've got a hell of an odd way of showing you like someone," I reply, shaking my head.

"You've evolved," she explains. "Honestly, it's been fascinating to watch. When you first came into this booth, I know you were terrified. You pulled that trick with my guard, but that was all show. You had no idea where you were and who you were dealing with. Then there were a few months you thought we had some kind of friendship, where you were ready to work with me, and now here we are. The cynic who assumes at least half of every sentence I say is a lie and wants nothing more to do with me."

"You're flattering yourself with a half," I mutter.

"That's my point," Aria chuckles. "I know maybe four people on the station who'd ever dare say something like that to me, and I'd only let it slide with three of them. You're fighting Omega, but you've become part of it at the same time. Like I said. It's interesting to watch. Which reminds me, I like your new name. Archdemon has more of a ring to it."

"Thanks. I thought so too," I reply non-chalantly. I know Omega's changed me. I've had Monteague and Melanis tell me that, and I'm not stupid enough not to realise it myself. But honestly, at this point, I'm not bothered. It's made me more effective, tougher, resilient, and outside of battle I'm no different with my friends and allies. At least Aria's getting some kind of kick out of watching it. "Complements aren't going to work any better than hospitality offers, you know."

"Oh, I know," she smirks. "Just telling the truth, believe it or not. But I suppose it's about time I told you the information you came here for."

"Certainly wouldn't mind," I say, settling back. "I take it Shirion talked, then."

Aria settles back too, looking away from me. "He did. After the way you left him, it hardly took long. He was practically singing by the time we brought in a professional."

"Glad I could help," I mutter, under no illusions about what a 'professional' might do. Denying them their fun is fine by me. "What'd he say?"

"About Umbra? Not much useful," Aria shrugs. "Not for lack of trying, but the best he could manage was that his boss had mentioned them a few times as the reason Whiteguard was getting more and more powerful. He didn't know anything else."

"Though I assume you checked he didn't," I say, giving a small shudder at the relaxed nod Aria gives. Just having a casual conversation about torture here… "So where is he now? Floating outside an airlock?"

"Actually, we left him in the street with a hole in his head," she replies. "I think the news networks will put it on you. More proof for that Archdemon moniker. And you say I don't care about you."

I fold my arms, frowning. "You called me here for that?"

"Not quite," Aria says. Her expression shows she hasn't let everything out yet, just drawing me along, bit by bit. Enjoying herself. "I also interviewed all the guards who were responsible for the areas where Maelstrom bombs were found. They told me they were approached by a salarian mercenary named Arein Sanmil, who offered them five hundred credits to do some guard work at a warehouse."

"And they took it?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"Five hundred credits for that is easy money," the asari replies. "Besides, brains aren't exactly the speciality of my guards. At least the ones who took the bribes. Of course, I ran checks on Arein. His boss is an Eclipse asari called Reani Perezia."

"Who you think might be working for Umbra," I say, nodding and storing that information away. If it matches what Grundan found, then that makes me and Garrus' theory even stronger. "I can check that out."

Aria shifts forward again, looking back at me, which is usually a signal that's all she has. "Maybe Reani can take you higher up the chain. I'm surprised Umbra has merc group links, though. I didn't think they were stupid enough to try and kill me."

"Yeah, who would've thought," I mutter, deciding to keep my own knowledge to myself. Aria doesn't need to be in the loop on this one. Hell, if she doesn't realise that Umbra _is _people in the big three merc groups trying to kill her, that's probably better. She finds that out…war could quite easily break out. "Thanks for the information. But next time, if you have something, just message me. We don't need to do this."

"Maybe I like talking to you," Aria replies, smiling as we both get to our feet. "There's very few people on Omega I can have an honest discussion with."

"Then call them first next time," I reply, turning away from her and towards the stairs. "Next time we need to talk, I'll arrange it."

"Fine by me," she calls from behind me. "Like I said; my door is always open to you." I hear Aria chuckling as I brush past Grizz, who looks a bit disappointed I wasn't killed during that conversation while I storm towards the exit.

That information might be a useful confirmation, but that conversation was all about trying to bring me back into Aria's 'business'. And even with her uses and friendliness now, she'll find another way to stab me in the back, with or without my identity.

For now, I take what I'm given, and stay away from Afterlife. If everything goes to plan, within a week, I'm not going to have to worry about Aria T'Loak again. As long as I don't leave Omega as her enemy, then it's fine by me.

I break into a light jog as I leave the club, pistol bouncing against my hip as I make my way through the largely deserted streets. Garrus should've finished briefing now, which means we can finally get underway with whatever it he has planned.

Best go find out exactly what that is.

#########

"Pencil-pushers," Butler mutters, glancing around the group sat at the living room table as Garrus finishes up the initial briefing, five minutes after I walk in. "I shouldnae be surprised."

"You're right," I nod. "I mean, now I think about it, we really shouldn't. It's been staring us in the face the entire time."

"And the great detective Shaw could only work out now?" Melanis asks teasingly from the sofa across from me, so I roll my eyes at her, trying to ignore Sidonis smirking next to me. Admittedly the pool of people who don't know about us is getting much smaller now that he, Garrus and Butler are in the loop, but I'm hoping it can stop there. They can all keep a secret, but if it gets to Laet, I'm done.

Speaking of, Laet and Monteague have actually joined us for this briefing, sitting next to each other. Whatever row they had last night about Erash has clearly blown over, and Laet…well, he's not quite his usual talkative self, but the fury we saw last night seems to have disappeared. Presumably he just wants to start moving past it, which I can relate to, so I don't plan on bringing Erash up with him. "It was one of those moments where everything just falls into place, if you see what I mean," I reply. "Besides, Garrus is totally a detective too. More senior than me. He missed it."

"It doesn't matter that we missed it, the important thing is that we know now," Garrus says, not sounding angry, so to speak, but his tone is brusque. Melanis and I can flirt later; right now, we need to focus on the largest mercenary network on Omega which only about ten people seem to know exists. "And we're going to do something about them." He reaches to the table projector, putting up holograms of the three personnel files Grundan downloaded for us. "Taren Rantus, Blue Suns, Barrl Ruz, Blood Pack, and Reani Perezia, Eclipse. They're all Chief Financial Officers in their merc groups."

"Aria said she found a trail back to Reani herself," I add. "It doesn't give us anything new, but it's confirmation. She was involved in the security breach at Afterlife, which means this idea we have about the finance guys being involved seems pretty solid."

"Umbra's a shadow network," Garrus continues, looking around at everyone in the room. "Their plan this whole time has been to let other people shield them, hiding behind their companies, never getting their own hands dirty."

Butler grins, chuckling softly. "We're gonnae force their hands into the mud, then?"

"Exactly," Garrus nods, mandibles spreading in a dangerous smile. "We strike all three targets at the same time. Let them know that this wasn't just a random attack. If they realise they've been found, and their leadership is dead, the best we can hope for is that they scatter. At the very least, they'll be weakened. Enough for us to pick off anyone who tries to rebuild."

It's, as usual, a good plan. Umbra always have at least one proxy in front of them; they've never had to deal with the fight being brought directly to them, and never had to deal with people being aware of their identities. If we want to make them panic, this is exactly the way to do it. "So, how're we handling this?" I ask. "Check their houses and wait for them to get back, interrogate them for evidence, then assassinate them and come back to base?"

"Unless anyone has any better ideas," Garrus says. "Quick and simple. And make sure you download any information off house terminals; the more we have, the easier it'll be to shut the bastards down if they try to start up again. We'll split into twos for this. Ian, you go with Melanis to Taren Rantus. Grundan and Weaver, you have Reani, Butler and I will handle Barrl." I smile to myself at that. Going with Melanis is a plus, and I'm glad Garrus decided not to send me to the Blood Pack member. The thought of it isn't making me panic, which is a definite improvement, but I imagine the sight of Barrl wouldn't give such a smooth reaction. Turians, I can deal with.

"So I'm supposed to sit at base and watch a vid until you get back?" Sidonis asks in disbelief, glaring at Garrus. "I want to get these fuckers just as much as everyone else, Garrus."

Garrus folds his arms, chuckling. "I know, but the others didn't injure themselves trying to be clever in a sparring match." Sidonis glances down at one arm as he says that, growling and shaking his head, but not protesting any further. Ah, smart way to keep Sidonis back here…Garrus must've injured him so it wouldn't make the other turian suspicious. Good to see my advice sank in.

"We'll scout it out now, see if we can gain access and lie in wait before Taren gets home," Melanis says, getting up and walking over to me as she looks to Garrus. "That's alright?"

"Of course," Garrus nods. "We should all be doing that. Suit up and meet at the shuttle in…ten minutes." He looks over to Vortash, who's finally out of the medbay. I can see the edge of a bandage poking out from his neckline, but Monteague assures us he's back to fitness. Fit enough to fly, anyway. "You can drive us, Vortash?"

The driver nods his silent affirmative, satisfying us all enough to head towards where our respective equipment is kept, which leads Melanis and I towards our room. "As much as I'd love to turn this into a date like at Shurta's place, we should probably treat this a bit more seriously," I say, as we walk in and towards the cupboard where we keep clothes and gear.

Melanis barks out a small laugh at that, shaking her head before pulling her crimson armour set out. "The thought never crossed my mind. I was going to remind you to be professional."

"See, that was a test," I grin. "What you were supposed to say was, 'no, fuck the mission, cuddling takes priority'."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Melanis says, smiling at me teasingly. "But don't think anything that happens in here is going to make me cut you some slack on missions. No mixing business and pleasure."

I make a big show of sighing for her, getting the female to chuckle as we start pulling our underlayers on. "Fine. We can let attacking Umbra be more important this one time."

"Knew you'd see it my way," Melanis says. It only takes about a minute for us to get suited up, after which she turns to me, grabbing her assault rifle off the wall and sliding it over her back. "You ready?"

"I've been ready since we first found out they existed," I reply, holstering my pistol and nodding firmly. "Let's get these bastards."

**A/N: Again, sorry this took so long. School. It's a dick. Especially at A2 level.**

**So, next chapter the squad heads to the Umbra leaders. I know a couple reviews have asked how exactly things are going to go to shit; the answer, without too many spoilers, is quickly. All shall become clear.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, and see you next chapter!**


	65. Ian vs The Cereal

Chapter 65

The Dykeenies: 3

**October 16th, 2185  
****12:34pm, Omega time  
****Taren Rantus' home**

"That's a hell of a place," I say to Melanis, as the two of us peek around an alley corner at Taren Rantus' place. It's…well, nice seems like an understatement. I wouldn't say it was mansion size, but it's not far off it. Three stories high with typical flat roof architecture, towering imposingly above us, and the vehicle outside suggests Taren's probably home. After the disaster for Umbra that happened yesterday, it's probably not too crazy to assume he's taking a day at home to try and sort out the aftermath.

There's a balcony railing going all the way along the roof, suggesting it's either where the car gets parked, or some kind of rooftop area for Taren to relax in. The top floor wall is ringed with tall tinted windows, presumably so he can wake up to the lovely Omega view each morning. Hell, we're not too far from Afterlife here. He was probably putting his feet up yesterday and waiting for the fireworks show over there. He must've been pretty disappointed. "How much do you reckon it set him back? One million? Two?"

"I'm sure the Suns persuaded the previous owner to sell it much cheaper than that," Melanis mutters cynically, still surveying the building. As cynical as that is, it's most likely true. To be honest, a lot of property ownership on Omega is based off killing the previous owner and then taking their place. You're much more likely to call an assassin to deal with moving house than you are an estate agent. "I don't see any guards. You think they're inside?"

"I don't think he has any guards at all," I reply, trying to look for any kind of entrance. The windows could potentially be a point of entrance, but they're likely to be alarmed…

Melanis glances down at me, folding her arms as we retreat back into the alley. "That's a bold conclusion to jump to. Mind explaining how you made it?"

"Well, as far as the mercs are concerned, he's just the guy who keeps them out the red, right?" I ask rhetorically, and Melanis nods. "They can always just hire another person who's good with numbers if they lose Taren, and they know he's not really a target to us for the same reasons. So what's the point wasting guards on someone who's not even going to be attacked?"

"Alright, fine, that's not so bold after all," Melanis admits, making me laugh. "I just thought, seeing as he's one of the people who runs Umbra, he might try and get himself some protection."

"Nah," I say, trying not to let on how much I'm enjoying being the observant one for once. "It's a shadow network. He's actively trying _not _to draw attention to himself. See, you tease me about the detective thing, but you can't say I'm not good at joining the dots."

"You're modest, too, don't forget that," Melanis mutters sarcastically, giving me a playful punch on the arm. "If he doesn't have guards, then he's going to have good security systems. Most likely top of the range stuff."

"Oh yeah, I'm with you on that," I nod. "Even with the whole 'not drawing attention' thing, he'll be super paranoid. It'll probably be Serrice Council grade equipment in there."

"Which is where your skills at 'joining dots' becomes useless, and I step in," Melanis chuckles, looking back around the corner as I sigh and join her. "Do you think he has the security systems turned on even when he's at home?"

"He did just see their big Afterlife operation get foiled," I shrug. "I mean, he might not suspect that we're onto him directly, but stuff going wrong always puts people on edge. I don't think we can expect anything like that."

"Wouldn't want him to make it boring," Melanis chuckles. "Alright, we need an entrance.

"The windows?" I ask hopefully, even though I'm pretty sure I know what the answer'll be.

"We so much as fracture them and it'll probably set off a few hundred alarms," Melanis replied brusquely. "We could always hack the alarm, but smashing a window to get in kind of gives the game away. They don't look like the openable kind."

"There's always the front door…" I say, zooming in the view inside my visor to look at it. "Electronic lock. Grundan upgraded my hack module after Ripard trapped me and Butler a while back, so we could probably get past it with two of us – shit, never mind." A quick glance up lets me see a black, spherical box above the door. "He's got a motion sensor there, probably with a thermal camera feed. Even if we cloak, we'll trip the motion sensor lasers, and then show up bright as day on the camera." I take a quick glance back at her. "You know, smashing the windows, shooting him and then making a daring attempt is seeming like the better option right now. I mean, it's not like the others are going to be able to do this. Garrus'll probably end up sniping the Blood Pack guy as he enters or exits his house, then Weaver'll use explosives to get into the asari's place and leave it to Grundan and his shotgun."

"Which is fine, but they're not infiltrators," Melanis points out. "We're in a unique position. If we do this silently, we can probably get data off any terminals he has in there. The more we know about Umbra, the better, right? Besides, I'd much rather walk out of there unscathed then have to worry about running away from any reinforcements he manages to call in."

"Yes, yes, fine," I say, not wanting to continue the conversation about all the reasons my idea was terrible. "Any smart ideas about how to go about doing that, then?"

"Well, seeing as we have grav-clips, the roof seems like a good idea," Melanis says, looking up to the top of the building.

"Oh, yeah. The roof." I fold my arms, looking up at it. "That's kind of obvious when you point it out."

"Joining the dots," she mutters, jogging out the alley and towards Taren's house as I follow her. "Right."

"I haven't had a good experience with grav-clips recently, so I think it's understandable why they don't spring to mind," I retort, thinking back to the escape from Kron Harga's building and the krogan biotic using them to break Garrus' arm. Blech. "Speaking of which, as great a plan as this is and all, what if he's sat on the top floor?" I point to the tinted windows circling the building at that level.

"Then we can tactical cloak," Melanis replies nonchalantly, making sure to leave a wide berth between us and the motion sensor as we move to the side of the building, and she starts locking her palms, knees and feet to the wall.

"Tactical cloak drains suit energy, and we need suit energy to power the grav-clips," I point out, following her lead. "We'll get like five seconds, at best."

Melanis is already a foot above me as I finally get clipped on, but it doesn't stop her looking down at me, presumably smiling. "Better climb fast, then." With that, she's gone, pulling herself up the wall in practiced movements as I sigh and follow her lead.

It doesn't take us particularly long to climb up the side of the building, and a quick look through the window with the thermal function on my visor shows a thankful lack of any turian-shaped heat signatures on the top floor, letting Melanis and I climb straight up without the unnecessary drama of tactical cloaking. I whistle lowly as the two of us vault over the rail and onto firm ground, and take a quick look at what appears to be a rooftop garden.

There's concrete pathing running around the perimeter, but the rest of the twenty metre long area is covered in synthetic grass, with a few seats strewn about and what looks like a hot tub in the far left corner, sunken into the ground and bubbling away quietly. "Can we get this on top of the base?" I ask Melanis, glancing over to her as we pad softly across the grass. I know it's not real, but…just the way it feels under my feet, the sound of our boots passing through it, makes me want to take my gloves off and touch it. I haven't seen any real plant-life in almost two years. That's really quite depressing.

"I'll think about it," the turian replies, looking over at a glass fronted door leading to a small bar room and a staircase down. There's the electronic lock symbol, though, so we both open our omni-tools simultaneously and press them against the lock, scanning the system. It only takes a few seconds to tell me it's a Serrice Council lock, so I start the hack module and settle down to wait. If I needed it done faster, I could help it along manually, but there's no real rush up here.

"You know, speaking of thinking, I just had a thought myself," I say, looking over at Melanis as she uses her omni-tool to speed up the hack. I know Shepard's coming back soon, but…I don't know where that leaves Melanis and I. I mean, so far, we know we really like each other, but I dunno if that's enough to get her to leave Omega. She's clearly invested here. It's something I want to at least check, though. "What happens after all this? Taking down Umbra."

"What do you mean?" Melanis asks curiously. "It's not like Omega's magically going to become a paradise once Umbra's out of the way. There'll still be things for us to do."

"That's my point," I reply. "I mean, we stop them, which'll probably stop the attempts on Aria's life and forced competition, but on the whole...Omega's still Omega, isn't it?"

"Yes... I still don't see what you're getting at."

"I wasn't getting at anything," I shrug. This is too touchy a subject for right now, apparently. "I'm just saying, it's not something I've really thought about." Even with her armour on, Melanis' body language is tighter, more tense, as she stares down at her omni-tool. "It's not worth getting defensive over, right?"

"No, it's not." She lets out a small sigh, and her posture relaxes again. "But what's the point of it? Omega will always need us."

"Yeah, probably," I nod, feeling a small sinking in my stomach as she says that. I don't blame her for not considering the idea of leaving here. It'd just be...nice. "I like having things with some kind of end goal," I explain. "I know that's kind of a weird thing for a cop to say, seeing as fighting crime on the Citadel was the same idea, but...it's not like we're ever gonna wipe these guys out."

"We don't have to wipe them out. We just need to keep them in their places."

"Yeah, but that's still kinda what I mean," I reply cautiously. At least she's willing to discuss it. "We're keeping the status quo. Not making any real change."

"Considering what it would be like without us, I'd say that's a fairly important job," she points out.

"And I'm not disagreeing with that," I nod. "My point is, what happens in fifty years time, when we're not here to fight anymore?"

Melanis gives a small chuckle, and I check the hack progress again. About halfway. "Well, hopefully by then we'll have inspired the next generation of vigilante crime fighters."

"Yeah," I say, trying to chuckle too, but it doesn't really come out right. "Only if they're as good as us."

"As long as you're not the one training them in infiltration, I think they'll be fine."

I do give a genuine laugh at that one, nodding as I do. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for that." I wait for the more sombre mood to return to theconversation as our laughs die down, looking up at the female turian again. "You've never thought about life after Omega?"

Melanis is silent for a bit, then shakes her head. "Not really, no. Everything I had before coming here is gone. This is my life now."

"Do you want to think about it?" I ask.

"What's the point? I can't just abandon the people here." The frustrating thing is, ordinarily, I'd agree with her. To be honest, this is probably me being far too selfish anyway. Omega does need people like us to protect them, and taking Melanis away from that because of a relationship…I shouldn't even try to do it, but I can't help it.

"You've got to retire sometime," I say. "There's a whole galaxy out there, believe it or not. You don't want to see it?"

"In our line of work, retirement isn't usually how we quit," Melanis replies quietly. Well…that's morbid. Shit. I didn't realise _that _was her plan in life.

"Yes, we're all suppose to go out like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid," I say, trying to make my sarcasm sound less scathing than normal, "but personally I was hoping we could break the mould."

"Butch Cassidy?"

"It just means we go out fighting," I explain. "Hopeless odds, all that stuff."

"I'm not saying that's how I _want_ to end my career here; I'm just being realistic," Melanis says. At least that's something of a relief, then. I was getting worried she actively had a death wish. "Breaking the mould means leaving what few innocents that are on Omega to die."

"But we have to draw the line somewhere, right?"

"And where can we draw it, Ian?" she asks. "Where can we draw it so that we aren't essentially giving up?"

"Probably at the point where you cross the line between fighting and suicide," I reply, making Melanis sigh and drop her omni-tool arm, turning to face me fully.

"What do you want me to say, Ian? That we should just pack up and leave?" Well…yes. "Because you know I won't do that."

"I want you to say that I'm not going to have to watch you die because you're too stubborn to know when enough is enough," I reply bluntly. The thought does terrify me. It's not like the Normandy would be safer, but…at least we know what we're up against. We can win. With Omega, every day is like gambling with your life, and the odds of success get smaller and smaller each time you play.

"I don't know, Ian," Melanis sighs, her voice softening. "I've never had a reason to leave before."

"I know," I reply. This is personal for Melanis too, meaning it's more important than it ever can be for me. It also means it's harder for her to see when things have to end. "But...I mean, it's gonna get to the point where we start getting rusty, older. They start picking us off, maybe even capture us on a mission. A few more years, and...well, yeah." I shrug, not wanting to fill in the gap. "I'm sure you don't want the Blood Pack getting any of us because we're too old to fight back." I feel a small flash of fear at that, shuddering before I can help myself. That wasn't a good thing to think of.

Melanis leans a bit closer, putting an arm around my shoulder, and I realise her omni-tool is turned off. The hack must've already completed. At least that's one good thing to come out of this conversation. "I'll...think about it," she finally concedes, squeezing my arm with her gloved hands. "I blame you for having to complicate things like this."

"I don't want to pack it all up right now, I'm just saying, we need to be realistic," I reply, my tone still serious as I sigh again. "And maybe a bit selfish, I guess."

"Well, selfishness doesn't exactly come naturally to turians," Melanis reminds me. "Duty first, self second. I'm sure Garrus has complained about it before."

"It's come up," I say. "My boss back at C-Sec thought everyone should live by it." I give a small chuckle at that, looking to the door and getting to my feet. "There's worse attitudes, I suppose."

"So then you see where I'm coming from," Melanis says, making me nod. With an attitude as ingrained as that, combined with a personal vendetta against mercs, I can definitely see where she's coming from. And I can't expect her to leave it all behind for a human she's only really liked for the past few months. "Though I've been spending a lot of time around a certain bad turian and his human friend," she suddenly adds, squeezing my arm again before she lets go. "Maybe I can learn to be a bad turian, too."

"I thought you said we weren't flirting this mission, Mel," I laugh, even as I get a small sense of relief as she says it. Maybe 'I'll think about it' wasn't a complete throwaway remark after all.

"You know what I meant," she chuckles, slapping me on the arm as I smile.

"I know. Besides, I don't think I'll be wrinkly and useless for a good few years yet, so I'll settle for you thinking about it." After all, I'm not supposed to know that Garrus and I leaving is just around the corner…

"Thank you," Melanis says, and I can hear the smile in her voice as she talks. "Now let's hurry this up so I can get to it."

"Sounds good to me," I say, smiling myself as we open the door and quietly step through, pistols raised, and I quickly glance around for any more security systems while the two of us pad across soft carpet towards the stairs. Thankfully, there's nothing, and I can even see the lights turned on as we look down the staircase to the floor below. I can even hear Taren's voice, a low flange muffled through the walls.

"He must be on a call with work," Melanis mutters, as we advance down the stairs as quickly as we can without making noise, into a light-brown wallpapered corridor with rooms branching off on both sides of it. Taren sounds like he's talking from downstairs, though, so I only take quick glances as we move through. Just looks like a load of bedrooms up here, a bathroom with a walk in shower, and –

There's another voice now, from inside the house. Not one being projected like in a call, either, the quality is too good for that. Sounds like a human male. I pause to try and listen in, but I can't make out what he's saying. He's definitely in the house, though. "You hear that second voice?" I ask Melanis.

"Yeah," she nods. "Well, that complicates things."

"Two bad guys in once place seems fine to me," I shrug, as we descend the next staircase, carpet giving way to wood panelling, which means we have to slow it down even further. Taren's voice is becoming even louder now, emanating from the left hand side of the corridor we're descending into. He's on this floor. "We get two birds with one stone."

"True enough," the turian admits, as the two of us press our backs to the wall, shuffling along as I start to catch snippets of conversation.

"…no idea what you're talking about," Taren snaps. "I run accounts for the Blue Suns, not a grand conspiracy spanning across Omega. Besides, you're one of Archangel's. I wouldn't talk to you even if I did know anything." Well, shit. Whoever this human is, from the sounds of it, he knows about Umbra. How is that even possible?

"Archangel isn't the only one interested in you, Mr. Rantus," the disembodied voice replies. It's quite deep, thick, and there's a calculated, cold precision to every word. That's definitely not one of us. "Just like you're not the only ones interested in getting more leverage over Omega. My employer has been trying to track you down for quite some time."

"I told you, I do Blue Suns accounts," Taren replies, but his voice seems to shift up a tone, and the sound shifts back across the room. Sure sign he's being threatened. I signal for Melanis to wait, slowly starting to peek my head around the corner. Honestly, this conversation is too interesting to interrupt. Especially considering we'd be killing Taren ourselves. "What is it your employer wants? Money? I can wire it to their account."

"Money is of secondary concern," the voice replies. I make sure my cloak is activated before looking…and see Taren in what must presumably be his office, with a desk and terminal with multiple screens pushed against the walls. His chair is knocked over and on the floor, and there appears to be a discarded box of cereal knocked into the corner as the turian backs up into the wall of the room, white painted mandibles quivering. He's being held at sword-point by a man with shoulder length black hair drawn into a ponytail, with a weird half-visor covering his eyes. He's dressed in black armour with a sort of skirt section at the back, the occasional orange highlight obvious as a small circle on his palm pulses gently with light. What the hell…? "Your network represents an opportunity. One we're in a position to take advantage of. Perhaps you might be a part of that." The sword jabs closer, pressing into the fabric of Taren's shirt. "If you stop playing games."

Taren's eyes flicker around the room frantically, looking straight through me as he pants, scrambling back against the wall as the sword starts cutting deeper. "Fine, fine, what do you want?" he yelps, an embarrassingly high pitched noise as the sword recedes, but stays levelled at his throat.

I see a small smile edge around the human's face. "Certainty. Thank you. You've been very helpful." A flicker of realisation crosses Taren's face…just as the sword plunges through his throat, blue blood splattering across the wall as he lets out a choking sound, clawing at his throat and the blade stuck in it. The man pulls it out with a clean pull, leaving Taren to collapse onto the floor, blue blood pooling over the wooden floor as he wipes the blade on his sleeve.

I manage to draw four conclusions from what happened right there. Firstly, sword-wielding ponytail assassin is a bad man. Secondly, we're not the only ones who know about Umbra. Thirdly, whoever his 'employer' is, apparently having Taren dead is an opportunity for them. Fourthly, whoever this guy is, I think he needs to answer a few questions.

"Taren's down," I whisper to Mel. "It's just the one guy in there. You feel like asking him what's going on?"

"I think that's a good idea," she replies, drawing her pistol as the two of us spin around the corner, pointing our guns at the mystery figure. "Stay right there!" she barks fiercely, making the man slowly turn around, same confident grin on his face from when he stabbed Taren as he holds his sword lightly in his right hand.

"Archdemon. And I'm afraid I don't know you," he says, inclining his head towards Melanis slightly. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised to see you here."

"Oh, really?" I ask, stepping forward with my gun levelled at his head. "Cos we're pretty fucking surprised to see you, whoever you are."

The man lets out a little chuckle, pulling his sword in a reversed grip behind his back. "That's reassuring. It would have been better if our paths hadn't crossed, though."

"Well, tough shit," I say bluntly. "Three quick questions that stop us blowing your head off; what do you know about Umbra, who's your employer, and what opportunity does Taren being dead give you?"

"Blow my head off," he replies coolly. "I invite you to try."

I try a warning shot to his chest shields to show I'm not messing around, but the shot doesn't ever get there. The man's stuck out his hand as I fire, bringing up some kind of bubble around himself which apparently just absorbs the bullet. I try another one, to the same result. "You're not going to co-operate, are you?" I ask, sighing.

"Doesn't look like it," he replies, still smirking. Then he springs forward, reaching me well before I can adjust my aim, and knocks my gun out my hand with a deft punch to my wrist. Melanis fires at him, but his shields take the impact, jumping up and kicking her in the side of the head. The force is enough to send her to the ground, and I feel a flash of rage as I pull the HVB off my back and swing it at him with all the force I can muster, firing up the electric blade.

It meets his own sword with a metallic clashing sound, both of us pressing our blades against each other as he maintains his smirk, raising an eyebrow in an expression that looks almost like he's impressed as sparks fly between us. Then he suddenly kicks at my unprotected knee, knocking me off balance and letting him easily ram the pommel of his sword into my chest, knocking me back. I try another two handed swing, but he ducks under it with ease, and my follow up gets deflected by his sword before the pommel hits me again, this time knocking the wind out of me as I fall to the floor.

I look up as I gasp in breath at Melanis struggling to get up, but the man walks over and kicks her in the stomach, knocking her back down. He looks back at me, raising the sword once again and advancing, even as I try and scramble backwards as best I can. It takes him about two seconds to trap me with his boot on my chest, sword pressing against my weak neck armour as I gulp.

"Nice toy," he mutters. "Learn to use it." Then the sword's lifted, and he steps over me and out the room, leaving me panting in breath and trying to recover. Who…who the fuck was that? And more importantly…why did he murder Taren in cold blood, then leave Melanis and I?

"Mel, you alright?" I shout after I get my breath back, coughing as I rise to my feet and walk over to her.

"He wounded my pride more than my body," she says, wheezing herself and accepting the hand I reach out to help her up, before the two of us look back at Taren's corpse. "Whoever he was, he's good, I'll give him that much. And he did our job for us."

"I'm not totally sure that's cause for celebration," I mutter. The Umbra thing really didn't need any more complications, but whoever this guys' employer was…well, looks like the merc groups and Umbra aren't the only ones vying for influence on Omega. Nothing we can do about that right now, though. "Come on," I say, tapping Melanis and the arm and looking over at the terminal. "Let's download what we can, and head back to base."

"And hope he hasn't caused trouble for anyone else," Melanis mutters darkly, as we plug our OSDs into the terminal and start trawling through files, trying to ignore the dead turian on the floor as we work.

#############

It doesn't take too long for Melanis and I to get all the vital information off Taren's terminal, and the walk back to base is a subdued affair, mainly due to the fact I'm still aching from having my ass kicked, and I'm fairly sure Melanis' will be feeling the exact same. Plus we're both quietly considering what exactly happened in there.

I keep getting hung up on what he said about 'opportunity'. I mean, he was talking about using Umbra for power, or at least that's what I got from the conversation. So why the hell would he just execute one of the major players? Surely that's going to cause nothing but damage to the network he wants to use? This whole thing is getting more and more layers, and I'm starting to get kind of sick of it.

Melanis' hand slips into mine as we walk across the bridge back into base, though, and I smile to myself as I squeeze it. We're making progress, at least. I've got that to be happy about.

Everyone who's not out on missions is sat around the sofas as I walk back in, Laet and Monteague sat side by side along with Vortash and Sensat, watching a news report with various food items strewn between them.

"Hey, you're the first ones back," Laet shouts as the two of us walk in, grinning widely. Well, at least he's cheering up after the Erash affair. Or this is just his way of dealing with it, trying to act like everything's normal. "Does that mean you win a prize?" His eyes suddenly flit between Melanis and I, a look of confusion crossing his face. "Hey, where's Sidonis?"

Uh…what? My face falls as he asks that, and I look at Melanis in alarm. "Sidonis was left back at base with you guys," I say slowly. This isn't happening. There's probably just some innocent mix-up. Garrus injured him so he'd stay back at the base with the others…who have no idea what he might do.

We literally just left Sidonis in the base, essentially by himself, while we all went off on missions. How the _fuck _did I not notice that, and more importantly, how the fuck did Garrus think that was a good plan?

"No…" Monteague says slowly, raising a brow plate. "He walked out of here with an Avenger about thirty minutes ago. He said you messaged him and asked for back-up."

Oh shit. Oh, shit, shit, _shit. _"No I didn't," I say, freezing in place as my mind tries to rationalise this. After all this…it's happening. Sidonis has made up an excuse and disappeared, right before it's time for Shepard to show up. Garrus essentially left him to do it, even with my warning, and I haven't noticed until much too late.

There's going to be people on their way right now. If Sidonis left half an hour ago…in the time it takes to mobilise enough troops to attack us, that'll take maybe thirty more minutes. There's still four of us out in the field. And I can't explain to anyone what's about to happen in a way that'll make them believe me.

But I have to do something. I look at Melanis, back at the squad, and take a deep breath. This is probably going to bite me in the ass, but I have something everyone ought to believe. Everyone except her.

"Start evacuation procedures," I snap. "Taren Rantus has our location."

The entire room stares at me in disbelief, particularly Melanis, who's totally lost for words. No-one says anything, or moves, until Laet finally open his mouth. "What?"

"This isn't a drill, I'm not fucking around, we're compromised!" I shout. "Laet, Monteague, get both the teams to get back here as fast as they can, Vortash, get in the shuttle and pick them up." Everyone's still staring at me dumbly. "Like, right now!" I yell, suddenly turning the room into a hive of activity, as all four squad members spring from their seats, Vortash leaving a bewildered Sensat as he dashes towards the garage as Monteague and Laet open their omni-tools.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Melanis breathes next to me, finally recovering from speechlessness. "Taren had absolutely no information on us. Are you out of your mind?" I stay silent, trying to think of a convincing lie as she towers over me. "Unless you explain what the hell is going on, I'm stopping this. We didn't get this close to Umbra for you to pull the other teams away from them now."

"Mel," I say, grabbing her arm, unable to do anything but look at her pleadingly. There's no lie that's going to make sense to her. "Do you trust me?"

She pauses nervously, looking down at me before finally nodding slowly. "Yes, I trust you, but this doesn't make sense. The mercs don't know about us."

"I know this doesn't make any sense now," I say quickly, inwardly cringing as I do. An awkward explanation later is a small price to pay for what this should hopefully accomplish, though. "And even when what's about to happen happens, it still won't make any sense how I knew it was going to happen. But for half an hour, I need you to not question things, do what I tell you, and I swear I'll explain everything later. Right now, we're all in danger. The life-threatening kind."

Melanis looks torn as she stares at me, mandibles fluttering nervously with what must be a million questions on the tip of her tongue...before she sighs, settling on just one. "I'm supposed to evacuate from Omega for something you have no evidence for, except your word?"

"Mel, I'm begging you, I'll explain everything later," I say, looking into her eyes searchingly. She's the one person who makes or breaks this. "Trust me. Please. And if I'm wrong, we'll find out in less than an hour. Believe me, I hope I am. But I can't risk it."

Melanis meets my eyes, staring into them uncertainly for what feels like hours...until she finally sighs, nodding her head. "This is crazy. But...fine." She steps forward, pressing a talon against my chest. "You explain what the hell you're doing after this, then. Whatever 'this' is."

That's all I need. As long as she's not going to stop this whole thing, I can afford to deal with consequences later. "Deal."

"Then what do you need me to do?" she asks, disbelief still written across her face. She's on-side, though. That's the main thing. We might actually stand a chance this way.

"Help us escape from all three merc groups attacking us," I reply, giving a grim little smile at the expression on her face. "So I think we'd better get to work."


	66. Ian vs The End

Chapter 66

Adele: Skyfall

**October 16th, 2185  
****1:17pm, Omega time  
****Archangel's hideout**

"All three?" Melanis hisses, and I can see how much she wants to shout the words as she stares down at me incredulously. I'm pretty sure she would be yelling, along with pinning me against a wall and growling in my face, if it wasn't for Monteague and Laet making their calls near us. At least she's caught on to keeping it a secret, though if we all make it out of this I'm pretty sure I can look forward to being lacerated afterwards. "How long did you say we have?"

"Half an hour," I reply, trying to keep my voice calm as I realise the sheer extent I've fucked this up. Half an hour isn't much at all. I can spend that long in the shower without even putting my mind to it; we're supposed to make some kind of defence and evacuate the squad in that space of time. Fuck, how could we just leave Sidonis here? "And yeah, it's going to be all three. Trust me, we've _really _pissed them off these past two years."

"Half an…why are you only telling us now?" Melanis asks, flaring her mandibles angrily, repeating the question I'm starting to ask myself.

"I thought you agreed we don't have time for questions," I say, looking around the base to try and come up with some kind of plan. If Vortash breaks every single traffic regulation and flies as fast as he can, which I've no doubt he will, it could take another fifteen minutes to get everyone back here. Then we have to, at the very least, brief everyone about what to do and get everyone onto the shuttle, and then get the shuttle well clear of the base. This is assuming my idea of mercenary timings are correct, which I'm nowhere near as confident about as I hope I sound.

Melanis' eyes narrow, and she reaches out to my shoulder, spinning me back around to face her. "You owe me this one," she says firmly. "I'm the one putting blind faith in you here."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I'm not going to be able to make a plan with Melanis bugging me, and I need her trust. "I thought I'd avoided this," I tell her. "It's becoming pretty evident I haven't."

"How long have you known for?" she presses.

"A while, alright?" I snap. "Trust me, I realise I've messed this up, you don't need to tell me." Melanis keeps looking at me, but her expression softens as I admit that, looking more sympathetic.

"Is it Sidonis?"

"Yeah," I nod, rubbing my temples and trying to get my thoughts straight as Melanis' posture finally relaxes from its aggressive stance. "Look, we have to get this place defendable." I glance up at the female turian again, still staring at me with a mixture of confusion, sympathy and underlying anger in her face and eyes as her mandibles flex questioningly. As much as I'd love to explain everything to her, doing it right now isn't an option. "Mel, I want you to understand, but we don't have time. Right now, I need your help so we can actually survive long enough for me to explain this."

She finally nods, just as I notice Monteague running along to us from the other side of the room. I can understand why Melanis wants to know everything. In her position, I'd be the exact same with the questions. "The other teams were still waiting on an opportunity to strike," the drell explains, looking between Melanis and I. "Vortash thinks he can get everyone extracted and back here in under fifteen minutes."

"That's a stroke of luck," I mutter. "God knows we needed one of them." Monteague looks at me blankly, as do Melanis and Laet. Garrus is supposed to be the one in charge of evacuation procedures; since he's not here, everyone seems to be waiting on me. Shit, uh…if the squad is getting out, then they're going to need supplies. "Monteague, Laet, go to the medbay and grab all the medical supplies you can get. Just the vital stuff, medi-gel, whatever, you know better than me." The drell and turian nod, turning to set off, before I have a thought, calling out after them. "Split the supply pile in half. We're going to need some of it here."

"Why are you leaving some here?" Melanis asks, obvious concern in her voice. Right now, I really don't need to tell her that Garrus and I are going to have to stay behind. We need to be here for Shepard, plus with the squad escaping, a distraction at the base keeps the mercs focused here, rather than searching elsewhere. I can't see Melanis being happy about that; precisely why I'm not going to waste time having that argument.

"Mel, grab all the weapons and ammo in the base. Take the weapons and half the ammo, put them near the garage, then leave the rest of the ammo here," I say, ignoring her question as I look to the kitchen. "I'll get food and essentials." She wavers in her spot for a few seconds, before wordlessly running off towards the armoury. I jog over to the kitchen, flinging open the cupboard doors and pretty much dragging out everything that's edible without being cooked. This must be so surreal for Mel…at least the others think it's a real threat. She'll barely know what to think.

Okay, food. Drinks now. We've got a whole load of gallon sized water bottles, so I heave them down two at a time, before cracking open the fridge and pulling out anything else I can find that's non-alcoholic; which basically equates to a whole load of Tupari which I pile on the floor with the rest of the stuff. I leave three of the water bottles and enough food to get a turian and a human through about three days, then start dragging the rest towards the centre of the living room, glancing down at the time on my omni-tool. Should only be about ten minutes until the others arrive…

"I got the medi-gel," Monteague announces, and I turn my head to look at him as he walks in from the corridor that leads to the medical bay, clutching a load of medi-gel capsules in his arms. "Laet is getting other supplies. I-"

There's a sudden, distant cracking sound, and suddenly blood explodes out of Monteague, the drell spinning and falling to the ground as the medi-gel tumbles from his hands, spinning and rolling across the polished floor. The whole thing takes about a second, my mind taking two more to rationalise what happened before I throw myself behind a sofa, just as I see Laet walk into the room.

"Monteague!" he yells, rushing forward to the drell…and right into the line of fire. There's another sharp crack, definitely a sniper rifle report, and a bullet thuds into the wall, travelling at an angle only a few centimetres above his head.

"Laet, get in cover!" I shout, even as he tries to pull Monteague back with him. Average sniper takes about three seconds to reload, one to aim and fire. I barely have time to get to my feet, run to Laet and tackle him to the ground, just as another shot fires, whistling past us and burying itself in the wall. Monteague's still sprawled out in the open, not moving, but I don't get to look for long as Laet starts struggling wildly in my grip, trying to get back to the drell. "Stay here!" I shout, trying to hold him back, before just giving in and slapping him on the side of the face to make him look at me. "We can't do anything for him until that sniper is dead, alright?"

"We've got to help him!" Laet says desperately.

"And we will, when it doesn't put us in danger!" I persist. "You're turian, you've done your military training, so start acting like it!" Laet's eyes are widened in fear but he gives me a shaky nod, settling back against cover and closing his eyes, muttering what sounds like a turian prayer as I pull my sniper rifle off my back, grateful for the fact I'm still geared up from going after Taren.

"Mel, we're under attack," I say on the comm. line, lifting the rifle scope over the top of the worktop we're sheltered behind and looking through it over the bridge. Five lightly armoured, assault rifle wielding Blue Suns, a couple of turians and humans along with a batarian, are advancing cautiously towards the base, and hiding behind one of the bridge pillars at the back, I can just make out a body and rifle barrel poking out. Come on, mate, try lining up another shot… "Monteague's down."

"_I'm on my way," _she says, as I see her emerge from the other side of the room, coming up from the underground part of the base where we store weaponry. _"Monteague's down? Is he…"_

"I don't know," I reply, fighting the urge to check the drell's body and focusing my energy on my aim. The sniper starts to lean around cover again, bringing up the rifle…but it only gets halfway before I pull the trigger, my shoulder absorbing the kickback as the round tears through his skull, dropping him with ease. "Five guys with assault rifles coming over the bridge. Go upstairs to the dorm and shoot out the window there."

"_On it." _I pull back the bolt and quickly slam a fresh thermal clip into the Mantis, readying up again. The mercs have dropped caution now we're firing back, running at the base to take up cover on the exterior. I manage to plug one of the slower humans in the chest, knocking him down where he lies still. There's the rattle of assault rifle fire from upstairs, and the blue blood I see hit the bridge suggests Melanis' managed to get one of the turians.

"Pick him up now," I hiss to Laet, folding the rifle away and drawing my pistol, running out from behind the worktop while firing steadily at the entrance to the house, suppressing anyone there to buy Laet enough time to get Monteague out of the way. The merc there isn't stupid, though, blind-firing his assault rifle around the corner at me. I instinctively duck behind the sofa I was using previously, but know that the shots will have hit where Laet and Monteague were just a second ago. "Laet!" I shout, looking behind me. No sign of either of them. "Laet!" No reply. "Shit," I mutter, activating tactical cloak and moving up. He'll be fine. He has to be.

I hear a ferocious snarling as I move to the front of the house, then see Ghost suddenly fly past me, the albino varren's teeth drawn back. The human merc who blindfired pulls around his cover fully to try and get a clean shot…and gets tackled by Ghost, who pins him down and clamps his jaws around his throat and weak neck armour. The varren shakes his head furiously, snarling louder and louder…until he yanks his head back and there's a huge tearing sound, the human lying limp beneath him.

"Ghost, get back-" I start to shout, but it's already too late. I hear the short burst of assault rifle fire and Ghost's surprised yelp of pain, then he's laid on his side, unmoving as a turian walks around in front of him and sprays another burst into the varren's corpse. This gives me the perfect opportunity to stand up and empty the remaining ten shots of my Predator into the bastards' head.

There's a few rounds fired from upstairs, and I look out to see the batarian fall down as he tries running back across the bridge. _"All clear," _Melanis reports, as I walk forward and kneel down next to Ghost, looking for any signs of life. Nothing. His eyes are glazed over, white body sagging as he lies on his flank. _"You?"_

"Clear," I sigh, getting up and running back into the house, towards where Laet and Monteague were. "Laet!" I shout, pushing Ghost to the back of my mind as I round the worktop we were sheltered behind…and see him applying medi-gel to Monteague's arm, cradling the drell protectively as Monteague looks up at me, smiling apologetically.

"You're alive," I say, breathing an enormous sigh of relief as I look at the very much breathing drell. "I thought you-"

"The shot sliced the side of my arm," Monteague explains. "I decided playing dead rather than taking another bullet would be preferable. The medi-gel will stem the bleeding."

"Good call on playing dead," I smile, as I hear Melanis jogging over and stopping next to me, making an equally relieved noise to see Monteague's alright. "Just tell me next time. You scared the shit out of me."

"I don't think you're the one he scared the most," Laet mutters, finishing up with the medi-gel and helping pull Monteague up to his feet. "They only sent six people after us?"

"Scouts, most likely," Melanis suggests, before I can say anything. "They were probably expecting us to be unprepared." I can feel her eyes on me as she says that.

"Which means the main bulk of them can't be far behind," I say, hearing the sound of a single, familiar engine drawing closer to the base. "When the scouts don't report in, they'll know this is the place. We've got maybe another ten minutes. Fifteen if we're lucky and they have to stop and ask for directions. The three of you, keep getting supplies together. I'll explain what's going on to the others and have them help you."

"Got it," Melanis nods. "Let's go." Her, Laet and Monteague set off back to their respective tasks as I run towards the garage, breathing heavily as the adrenaline from the fight wears off. We barely made it through six mercs without Monteague almost dying…and we lost Ghost. I wish I'd made more time for him, but too late for regrets. In ten minutes, the merc groups come crashing down on us, and escape for the squad becomes practically impossible. I hear the shuttle touch down, and within five seconds Garrus is storming in from the garage entrance as I run towards him.

"What's going on?" he snaps, as Butler, Weaver, Grundan, Vortash and Sensat assemble behind him, with the latter apparently taking this remarkably well, from her calm expression.

"Umbra, the Blue Suns and Taren had our location on file, and they're assembling all of the three main merc groups to kill us here," I explain, repeating the lie I told the others. "We need everyone out in ten minutes, or the shuttle's going to get blown out the sky as soon as it takes off."

"You're no' joking, are you?" Butler asks, sighing as I shake my head. "Fuck."

"All of you need to find Monteague, Laet and Melanis, and help them pack the supplies they're collecting into the shuttle, as fast as you can," I say. "Five minutes at most. Then get back here so we can tell you what to do once you're out. Weaver, if you can leave a few explosive surprises in the underground areas…"

"It'd be my pleasure," the salarian nods, and I see the smallest hint of a smile on his face.

I look over at Garrus, resisting the urge to yell at him right now for leaving Sidonis where he did. "Garrus, I need to talk to you separately," I tell him, surprised at how calm I'm able to keep my voice.

"Alright," he replies, furrowing his brow ridges as he gestures to the others to get to work. I wait for them to rush over, before leaning in closer to him, glaring furiously.

"I can't believe you just left Sidonis here to betray us like that," I snap, only raising my voice by a fraction. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Garrus blinks in surprise, staring down at me. "What are you talking about?"

I'm about to keep having a go at him, but the genuine shock on his face makes me stop mid-sentence. "I sent you a message when I left after the auction house." He's still giving me a blank look. No, no, no… "I sent it," I repeat, opening up my omni-tool, scrolling down to the sent messages and showing it to Garrus. "It says right there."

"I never got that," Garrus says, and there's not even the smallest hint of a lie in his voice. But…how? How does that even happen? The message sent! "You knew Sidonis was going to betray us," he says quietly. "And you didn't tell me."

"Well, it's not like I didn't try," I retort, pointing to the message again. "I couldn't tell you when I first got here, you would've kicked him out of the squad straight away."

"And so what if I did?" the turian growls. "Would we be in this mess right now if…" He rests a hand on the top of his head, tensing in frustration before giving a look of ice. "I don't believe this. Ten minutes to save the entire squad because of you."

"Hey, because of Sidonis," I reply. "I wasn't the one who betrayed you."

"But you're the one who could have stopped it!" Garrus shouts, making me quickly glance around to see if anyone's nearby. No-one is, thankfully. "You didn't think it would be a good idea to check if I'd got the message?"

"It was sent and marked as read on my omni-tool, why would I?" I ask. Garrus stares at me, making me give an exasperated sigh. "I knew you'd do this. Is it too much to ask you to be understanding?"

"I understand fine," he shrugs. "You don't trust me."

"You don't exactly make it easy to trust you with some things, though, do you?" I snap. "Sidonis saved our lives more than a few times. If you'd kicked him out straight away, there's a good chance we wouldn't be here right now. If I'd trusted you with this earlier, we might be dead." He gives me the same stubborn look, and I shake my head. Neither of us are in the right here, but I don't think he's going to accept that. "This is my fault, but you're just confirming why I did what I did. This is exactly why I didn't tell you about Evan."

"Evan?"

"Blue Suns detective who helped me with that quarian serial killer," I explain. "If you'd found out I was working with the enemy, what would you have done to him?" Garrus stays quiet. "That's my point."

"Well, here's my point," Garrus says dangerously, walking up to me and jabbing a talon into my chest. "You let this happen. If a single one of the squad dies because of you, it's blood on your hands."

"You make it sound like I didn't know that already," I reply calmly, not shirking away from his gaze as he walks past me and towards the others, growling lowly. "This means Shepard's coming back," I call after him. "You and I are going to have to stay here and buy the others time."

"Great," he says sarcastically. "We've got a lot to talk about."

I turn on my heel and follow him to grab supplies, shaking my head as I do. I didn't expect Garrus to be understanding, so I can deal with the disapproval. What I can't get my head around is him not receiving my message. You don't get delivery glitches in 2185. Messages reach the intended target, period. This is making less and less sense to me.

Packing up the supplies take the five minutes I allocated to everyone, and thankfully this time no-one's shooting at us as we all work together and frantically pile guns, ammunition, food, drink, credits and medical supplies into the shuttle, until Vortash tells us that if he wants to fly it and the squad, we have to stop. From the looks of things…it should be enough.

Which means that, approximately seven minutes after Garrus arrived back at base, we're all gathered outside of the garage. Everyone is still in their armour, with the exception of Laet, Monteague, Vortash and Sensat, but they're all armed as Garrus and I stand in front of them.

This…this is it. Goodbye. I knew it had to come at some point, but still, I can scarcely believe it. I thought we'd at least have time to do it properly. Rather than only being given thirty minutes notice that we have to pull out. I mean, hopefully it's not goodbye for ever, but the whole Omega era is coming to a close. This is the end. We don't even have time for a long goodbye speech.

"Everyone except for Ian and I are going to get in the shuttle as soon as I finish talking," Garrus explains, meeting everyone's gaze at least once as he looks around the room. "Vortash, I need you to take everyone to the nearest private spaceport away from merc attention. When you get there, you need to hijack anything that can get you away from here." Vortash couldn't handle something like the Normandy, but Omega is rife with small cargo ships that we know he's capable of piloting. "When you have a ship, get out of here as fast as you can and get somewhere safe, somewhere like the Citadel. When you get there, split up and go your separate ways, no more than two people go to the same place. Once you're certain you're safe, message me and let me know. Does everyone understand?"

Everyone in the room gives a sharp nod, not wanting to waste words. Time is of the essence, after all; we're all acutely aware the mercs could be on us at any moment. I glance down at my omni-tool again. Optimistically…we have two minutes. "We've done everyone on Omega a valuable service," Garrus says, unable to resist adding something extra to his speech. "We've weakened the scum on this rock, we've let them know that people will hold them accountable for what they do, and we've shown them that justice exists, even on Omega. You might be leaving now, but we won't be forgotten. Not after this. I'm sure of it."

He looks around everyone again, and I see his mandibles quiver a bit. He's going to miss them just as much as I will, but even so…I'm glad they're alive. My mistake didn't cost them their lives. "Get to the shuttle," he finally says, standing to the side as the squad rushes towards the garage, quietly saying their goodbyes to Garrus and I as they pass.

Everyone except Melanis who stops in front of me…then takes my hands in hers. "Don't you dare die," she says, simply and firmly. "You understand?"

"I'll try," I smile, wrapping her in a hug, taking one last moment to savour her warmth and scent around me before she pulls away, tracing a talon down my hand. "Look after yourself, Mel."

"You too, Ian," she says, looking back at me over her shoulder as she walks away. Then the female turian breaks into a run towards the shuttle, giving one last look back before she steps into the garage, and out of my line of sight. I can hear Vortash firing up the engines…but asides from that, an eerie silence and emptiness settles upon the base as Garrus shifts next to me.

"Two of us against the whole of Omega," I finally say, glancing over at him. "It'd help if you weren't pissed off at me as well as all the mercs."

"Go down into the underground and check Weaver's explosives are in place," the turian sighs, but the tone in his voice seems less hostile as he sets off up the stairs towards our sniper perch. "I'll make sure the mercs don't get across to us."

"Roger that," I mutter to myself, turning and heading across the room and underneath the stairs to enter the underground tunnels. Garrus should mellow out. I hope. I mean, he can see that I tried to warn him about Sidonis, after all. It's not like I don't trust him at _all_, I just…know him too well. Not that it's going to stop him holding it against me, I'm sure.

I could have told him earlier. I could've taken more care to make sure Sidonis didn't get away from us. My life seems to be increasingly full of "what if" scenarios; things like Mierin, Evan, the auction house, Erash, Ulron…either Omega is complicating things, or I'm just cocking stuff up at a higher rate. Or both.

I sigh to myself, reaching the bottom of the underground stairs and moving into one of the tunnels ahead, looking at the boxes and crates strewn about haphazardly for agility training with Melanis. In a few hours, we might be down here, fighting off vorcha and varren. Assuming Weaver's explosives don't do the trick. Speaking of which, where are the little things? I suppose the logical place would be the archway at the end of the room. Could bring the whole roof down on people –

"_Ian, Garrus, come in!" _Vortash suddenly shouts in my ear, making me jolt in surprise.

"What?" I ask, taken aback by the worry in Vortash's voice. "What's wrong?"

"_We were taking off, but someone has a lock on our thermal signature!" _the turian tells me frantically, and I'm already up and sprinting back towards the stairs as fast as I can, checking my sniper rifle is still on my back. Garrus didn't have his helmet on. He won't hear any comm. traffic. _"There'll be someone on the bridge with a missile launcher, you need to get rid of them!"_

"I need at least half a minute to get a shot," I reply, pushing myself as fast as I can go and flying up the first flight of stairs leading back into the base. "Buy me some time!" I'm praying to hear Garrus' voice, but there's nothing. This is down to me.

"_We can't, he's firi-" _The sound of Vortash's voice is replaced by static as I reach the door, frantically pressing the control panel and willing it to open faster as I hear an explosion.

"Vortash!" I shout. Still static. The entire squad is on that shuttle. It can't have gone. "Vortash!" The door finally opens, but the static on the line takes all the energy out of my legs, and I slump against the wall as it keeps crackling in my ear. "Come on, please…" I say, willing his voice to reappear. Nothing. Just the constant sound of empty white noise.

"_...damaged the si…comm. unit is…rking…ear…us."_

They're still in the air. I can barely make out the noise, but there's still communications traffic. I burst through the door, and with the muffling effect of the underground walls gone, I can still hear the shuttle engines, weaker now, but still in flight. The radio must have taken a hit; but not enough to take it down. I burst towards the stairs to the sniper nest, trying to work out how long I have to get there…but as I round the corner that lets me see out across the bridge, I hear the sound of another missile launching, the shuttle trying to pull away as the rocket streaks after it. I lift my rifle and try to shoot the rocket, but the shot flies wide as I watch helplessly.

Then there's a sniper shot from in front of me, Garrus crouched at his spot and aiming down at the bridge, and instead of following the shuttle's flight path it simply flies straight on, as if the guidance system has been aimed away.

"…_.ssile is…fferent path. Th…shot the launc…" _I hear in my ear, along with static-muffled cheers behind it as the shuttle gets clear. As long as the engines are still working, with the headstart he has, Vortash can evade anyone the mercs send after him. They're safe. Truly safe. Even with Sidonis' betrayal still happening, that fact feels like a huge weight pulled off my shoulders, and I let out a laugh born of hysteria and relief as I walk into the dorm, while Garrus reloads his rifle, helmet firmly fixed onto his head.

"Had to let him get a shot in for dramatic effect?" I ask, slumping down next to him and pulling out my Mantis, looking over at the pile of thermal clips Garrus has amassed for us.

"It's not an escape attempt without a bit of excitement," the turian mutters, looking over at me and sighing. "Look…I don't like what you did. I don't like that you didn't tell me until now. There's some things we need to talk about, but they can wait until after we make it out of here."

I'm half-tempted to say "join the queue", but resist the urge to snark at him, reaching out and clasping his wrist as he does the same to me. "Sounds good to me," I nod, quickly checking the Mantis and looking over the balcony, seeing a group of seven Eclipse mercs drop onto the bridge. "We've just got to hold out until Shepard gets here."

"The mercenaries can't send too many people at once through this chokepoint," Garrus says, scoping down the bridge as the occasional merc darts across the gap in the street behind it, where they're setting up the base of operations. "We can hold them for a long while, especially with two of us. Let's hope you didn't forget to mention any surprises."

"You ready for this?" I ask, ignoring the jibe. He's not forgiven me yet, he's just postponing yelling, so I'm sure I can expect more as this drags on. Beats being dead, though.

"I don't think the mercs are going to give us much of a choice," Garrus mutters, then pulls his trigger, sending a round through the skull of an asari as I do the same to the one I've targeted. "Here goes nothing."

With that, it begins.

########

**October 17th, 2185  
****00:12am, Omega time  
****Archangel Task Force field headquarters**

"Don't move," a female voice says, and I slowly turn around, facing the person who's going to end it all for me with the detonator held in the palm of my hand. A dark skinned woman is holding a Predator against my skull, dark red hair straightened against her head, and I can make out brown eyes beneath my hazed vision. Jentha. The Blue Suns commander that's with Tarak on Garrus' recruitment mission. As good a person as any to go out with me. "Who the hell are you?" she asks, though the expression on her face suggests she's probably putting it together.

"Archdemon," I croak, lifting up my free hand weakly and pulling off my helmet, the limb shaking furiously at the effort until I have to drop it, seeing black spots in my vision. May as well let her see the face of the person who'll kill her. Besides, when the explosives go off, it's not like they'll be able to identify my body. "You must be Commander Jentha."

Jentha glares, fury written over her face as she moves in closer and jabs the gun in my face. "How the fuck do you know who I am?" she says dangerously, then smirks, calming herself and taking a small step backwards. "Doesn't matter. You can tell it to the interrogators. Get up." I stay right where I am, flipping the detonator open from where it's hidden beneath my body. "Get up!" Jentha shouts, grabbing my thankfully non-wounded arm as I shake my head.

"I'm not going anywhere," I gasp, straining to get the words out while my thumb shakes over the detonator, preparing to stab down on it. At least I get rid of her and the gunship. It's not a useless death. It's mercy for myself, too. "Sorry. You shouldn't have found me." I pull the detonator out, Jentha's eyes widening as she lunges for it.

They stay widened as a bullet drills cleanly through her head, the lifeless body falling on top of me and onto my bitten arm. I cry out as she rolls off me, feeling my hand spasm and knock the detonator a few feet away while pain from my arm rolls through me, leaving me on the edge of consciousness with feverish, blurred vision. I can faintly make out a turian in Blue Suns armour walking towards me, then I blink and he's in my face, shouting something…

"Why did you call me?" the turian snarls, suddenly grabbing me by the throat in his hand and pulling me towards him, growling furiously. "What did you do, Ian?"

Even beneath the fever and pain, I'm lucid enough to recognise that voice. "Sid…Sidonis?" I manage to say, my voice scratchy and dry. This can't be right. I'm hallucinating.

The grip on my throat tightens, but I'm too weak to even lift a hand up to stop him, feeling my breath get shallower and shallower. "You didn't think I'd come back?" The opaque section of his helmet fades out…and I see Lantar Sidonis giving me a look of death. "After you send me that message to leave the base, you're not at the place we're supposed to meet, and then this happens?" He growls again, tightening his hand another notch. "Why me. Why frame me for this?"

"I…never sent…that message…" I croak, wriggling weakly as the dark spots close on my vision again. Sidonis keeps growling, eyes locking with mine. "Does it look…like I planned this?" I manage to ask him. A flicker of doubt goes over Sidonis' face as I do that, and the hold on my neck loosens slightly. "I got bitten…by a varren," I try to explain, coughing and almost throwing up with the effort it takes. I just want him to either finish me, or let me go so I can end this myself… "Wound got infected. Came here…to buy Garrus some time." I glance down to the detonator, seeing Sidonis' eyes follow my gaze. "Last stand."

Seeing that, Sidonis finally lets his hand drop, confusion written across his face as I cough and retch as air pours back into my lungs, making my head pound and my vision pulse as my body tries to cling to life. "I don't understand," he says, shaking his head. "The message came from you. I thought…" He suddenly glances over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps approaching. "Shit," he mutters, giving a look back down at me…then gets to his feet and runs as the footsteps, accompanied with voices, draw closer.

"Sidonis…" I croak weakly, lifting up a hand as if trying to stop him, but he's around the gunship and gone within seconds. I let my hand drop back down to my side, looking down at the detonator lying a few feet away, and try reaching over to it. The arm stretch sends me to the ground, lying on my front as breath rattles through my lungs, the energy necessary to even crawl completely gone. In that moment, I just give up. Stop trying to reach the detonator, stop trying to fight, stop everything. I press my face to the floor and close my eyes, feeling the pain ebb away as my senses start to slip from me.

"Shep, look at this," a faint, unfamiliar voice suddenly says, and I feel a slim, gloved hand press against the side of my neck, checking my pulse. "He's alive, barely. You think Archangel got to him?"

"This area is sheltered," an extremely familiar voice replies. "Maybe he got shot crossing the firezone and bled out here." That's…that's her. That's Shepard. With what takes a gargantuan effort, I lift my head up, making the glove on my neck recede as I lock eyes with Lara Shepard.

She doesn't even look like she's changed, except for the faint scars of the surgery that brought her back to life. Same shoulder length brunette hair, small green eyes in her usual calm, professional stare, the most delicate feature on her strong face, asides from the raised cheekbones. She had a fairly neutral expression on her face…at least until she sees me, and her mouth and eyes widen in surprise before she kneels down in front of me, reaching for medi-gel straight away. "Ian?" Lara asks, sounding like she can scarcely believe it as my suit automatically applies the gel where it's most needed, making me gasp in relief as it soothes my arm once again. It's only temporary, though. I'll get about a minute before I feel even more like shit. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing much," I pant, looking around the group she's got with her. Miranda Lawson, of course, with her arms folded as she gives me an unimpressed look. I've no doubt she'll at least have a vague idea of who I am, though. She's had two years to study Shepard; I must have come up somewhere. Zaeed Massani looks equally unimpressed, but a hooded, slender Japanese woman looks genuinely worried as she stands with Lara. "Just dying. My left arm."

Shepard immediately heads to that part of my armour, unclasping the gauntlet and shoulder piece and letting it fall, before she winces at what she sees. I can't even bring myself to look at how bad it's gotten. "Varren bite," Zaeed says bluntly. "He's a guddamn dead man walking."

"We've already talked about keeping your opinions to yourself sometimes, Zaeed," Shepard says calmly, turning her head to give him a look. "This would be one of those times." She looks back down at me, and I see her eyes flick across to the detonator before she does. She knows exactly what I was doing here. I doubt she's going to let it happen. "Archangel is Garrus, then?"

"He's going to be gutted I ruined the surprise," I grunt, trying to laugh and coughing onto the floor again as Shepard reaches a hand out to my shoulder. "You need to go and help him. Trying to get me out of here is going to draw too much suspicion, and I don't know how much longer he can hold out."

"He's right," Miranda says, but she does come along and help out as the Japanese woman and Shepard pull me to my feet gently. "The mercs are building up to something big. If we leave now, Archangel might not make it."

"We're not leaving you here, then," Shepard tells me, putting my good arm around her shoulder and helping me walk after she picks up the detonator. The squadmember I don't know reaches tentatively towards my injured arm to support it, but I shake my head, keeping it hanging uselessly at my side. She touches that, I'll probably pass out. "I should've known you and Garrus would have gotten into a mess like this," Shepard mutters to me as we walk, checking around us to make sure we're not arousing too much suspicion. Thankfully, everyone seems too preoccupied running around looking busy, so we're in the clear as Shepard gently helps to lower me onto the bridge.

"At least we're consistent," I reply, gritting my teeth as we start to set off across the bridge again. The freelancers from in-game are noticeably absent, which is a relief…but Garrus isn't shooting at us as we cross the bridge, and we're not exactly making a big deal of pretending to take cover. People are going to work this out any second. "This isn't a fever hallucination, is it? You're…well, dead."

"Was," she corrects me, a little frown passing over her face for a second before it takes on its usual businesslike expression. "I got brought back."

"I'm assuming Cerberus had a hand in it, since you've got her following you around." I look over at Miranda, breathing heavily as we get halfway across the bridge. The medi-gel is starting to wear off, and I can feel myself deteriorating. "You don't seem…the xenophobe type." I start coughing again, a wet hacking noise that makes me almost drop to my knees, if it wasn't for Shepard supporting me.

"Shep, the mercs are looking at us," the hooded woman says, glancing back over the bridge. I do the same, and indeed, I can see a couple of Blue Suns and Eclipse pointing at us, waving more people over. "We might need to pick the pace up."

"I think Ian can sort that out for us, Kasumi," Shepard says calmly, not turning around as she nudges the detonator in my hand. I get the hint quite quickly, finally jabbing down on it and listening to the huge explosion behind us, along with the screams and yells of mercs as their attention gets turned to the burning gunship instead of us. Kasumi…I don't remember her. Shepard must have picked up someone new.

"You aren't going to introduce me…to everyone?" I ask, groaning as my arm pain flares up again and each step saps my energy more and more. I'm purely running on the adrenaline of Shepard returning, and that's not much. At all. "I think I'm going to black out if I stop talking…don't really think that's a good idea in my current state."

"The woman with the Cerberus logo is Miranda Lawson, she was in charge of the project that brought me back," Shepard explains, guiding us into the house I never expected to return to. I'd written myself off as dead. The throbbing in my arm and sweat pouring over my body reminds me that's still a distinct possibility. "The guy with the charming manners is Zaeed Massani, ex-mercenary, and this is Kasumi Goto, master thief." Kasumi looks at me as Shepard says that, giving a small but welcoming smile.

"Hell of a mix," I mutter, making our way upstairs and along the landing towards the dormitory.

"Does Garrus…" Shepard starts to say, sounding a bit nervous, shaking her head. "No, that's a stupid question given the circumstances. Forget it."

"I told you, keep me talking," I grunt. "Ask whatever you want."

"Garrus remembers me, right?" she asks. Given that two years have passed in what must've felt like a night's sleep for her, I can see why she asked it. Her feelings about Garrus will be the same ones she had two years ago.

"Shepard, I remember you," I point out, with another coughing chuckle. I need to stop trying to laugh… "I think he's going to be…happy to see you."

Shepard doesn't reply, but there's a small smile on her face as she presses her hand to the door control and slides it open. Garrus is already turning around as she does, pulling his helmet off and rushing towards Shepard, the two of them embracing tightly. "Shepard," he breathes, leaving Miranda, Zaeed and Kasumi to hover awkwardly as I stagger past them to the sniper post and collapse at the wall, leaning back against the wall and resting my aching body.

"I'm back too," I murmur under my breath, as the two of them break apart. "Not dead...just yet."

"We might need to save the introductions until later," Shepard tells Garrus, jumping back into her role as Commander as she walks over to me, and the rest of the squad follows suit. "We need to clear a path through the mercs to extract you and Ian to the Normandy." I'm still panting in breath, but suddenly groan out, lifting my good hand to my head as I feel it start to pound, even worse than it has before.

"He's getting worse," the Japanese woman says, crouching down in front of me. Shit, what was her name? She literally just told me it…and I can't remember. My mind's racing as I try to think, but everything feels really far away as I do, voices sounding like I'm underwater as I try to focus on something, but my eyes refuse to work.

I groan again, this time clutching my stomach as it gives a huge ache. Then I'm on my back. I'm not even sure how I got here, but I feel like I've been thrown inside an oven it's so hot, boiling, voices getting dimmer and dimmer. I feel something press against my chest, then the side of my face, but it's suddenly as if all the light in the world just goes out, and I'm plunged into blackness, faintly hearing my own rattling breaths and feeling my limbs shake, head and stomaching aching furiously as I sink further and further into it.

"_He's seizing…give him room."_

"_Hang on, Ian. We're getting you to the Normandy."_

Silence again. The pain's gone. The noise has gone.

Suddenly, there's just…nothing.

"_He's not gonna make it."_

**END OF PART THREE**

**A/N: Almost one and a half years and four hundred thousands words, and here we are. Wow. It's probably fair to say I didn't anticipate the story being this long, or taking this long to write. **

**This has definitely been the fic I've enjoyed writing the most so far, though. Creating Omega, the squad, the missions, writing Aria, setting up things to come, this has been an absolute joy both to write, and to see how you as readers have enjoyed me trying new things, and attempting to mature my writing. I realise there's still things to improve on, things I wish I could have devoted more time to (like some of the character subplots), but on the whole this is still a story I'm proud of, and more importantly, one I hope you've really enjoyed reading. To say it's been an experience would be an understatement.**

* * *

**Of course, it's you, the readers, that help me improve, keep me writing even when I feel like throwing in the towel, and take the time out of your days to read and support the story. So, in no particular order, thanks to;**

**Morgaur**

**Lunatic Pandora1**

**justsomebody2**

**Sarge1995**

**ArchAngelGundam**

**RiderPale**

**Sherwood374**

**M-Angel 05**

**the Zogg**

**WildCard-Yes Man**

**sorrow's follower**

**Lord Lithos Maitreya**

**Atreyu429**

**Lollaro**

**InsidiousAgent**

**Kraidle**

**Bigstupidjellyfish1137**

**the stone tiger**

**DelVarO**

**CuHnadian**

**Elateyin121**

**Accipter46**

**TheRev28**

**CyanB**

**Hyperlethalvector**

**perionrobinson**

**Breeanski**

**Hijokugei**

**Spiritstrike**

**Panthour**

**S058**

**dhogan6**

**Delta XIII**

**Avai**

**FFAddicted**

**Sirryu**

**BlackAdder117**

**Exar Kun IV**

**One Over Infinity**

**Rob DS Zeta**

**Eothr Si'Ian**

**Samarrific**

**BladeRy**

**Princess of Persian Rugs**

**GreyWolf244**

**FieryHawk79**

**Jarrick32**

**The Golden Echo**

**donald7777**

**quantumparadigm**

**Kassandra Black**

**FEholic**

**80sHairBand**

**Attonranden**

**xUnDeadKittenx**

**TornAres**

**Italian Yakuza**

**BumbleBeePixie**

**S4pphi**

**Liege Lord**

* * *

**And everyone else who reviewed consistently and I missed on this list. There was a lot to check, cut me some slack.**

* * *

**And of course, extra special thanks to:**

**TheRev28, for essentially 'voicing' Melanis for most of the story and being a bro in general.**

**quantumparadigm for her work with Ulron and being awesome.**

**Abstract Indigo for putting up with my questions.**

**Myetel for letting me use her turian lore from the 'Spirit of' series.**

**Kassandra Black, Sarge1995, attonranden and BumbleBeePixie for their support and friendship.**

* * *

**In addition, thanks to everyone single one of you, named here or not, for reading and following the story, even if you're a new reader, or you've been here since the start. You make the series as much as I do.**

**There shouldn't be an _enormous _gap between this and MtM4. There'll be one, of course, I have to get my ideas together and suchlike, but we will return. After all the questions I set up there, it'd be cruel if I didn't.**

**If you want to know the second the story does come out, _remember to subscribe to author. _Favourites are always appreciated, but I'm fairly sure they won't actually act to give you alerts, just so you're aware.**

**Oh, and the squad really is alive, as is Melanis. You don't even know how long I've been waiting to tell you all that. **

**Once again, this has been amazing to write, and I can only hope you've had as much fun reading it as I have writing it.**

**See you next fic.**

**Ian.**


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